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With one hand over his shoulder, he pulls his shirt over his head and throws it across the room. Harshly tugging my top down, he fists it around his hand as if giving himself traction to fuck me even harder. While my breasts spill out, his eyes rove voraciously over my bare chest. Shoving hisother hand between my legs, he thrusts two fingers inside my pussy.
“Oh my god,” I moan out, suddenly feeling so perfectly filled.
His hand follows the rhythm he’s already set. Every delirious glide of his fingers, paired with the throbbing stretch of his cock in my ass has my muscles growing taut, ready to snap.
“That’s it, baby,” he growls, “scream for me.”
“I’m going to—” My words get lost somewhere between my throat and lips as my body throbs in indescribable pleasure, a warm, pulsing tingle flowing into every little crook of myself.
My chest cracks open, and I burst into a sob, feeling shaken butso fucking good.
“Fuck, James,” he bites out through clenched teeth, fucking me through my orgasm until he falls over me, moaning into my neck as he comes deep inside me.
Both out of breath, we stay motionless for a few seconds until Ozzy pushes himself up on one elbow, cradling my face with his free hand, gently stroking my hair out of my face.
“Shit, baby,” he says before kissing me softly but still full of need. “That was …”
I find his gaze, my eyes watery but my smile wide and beaming. “Amazing.”
35
JAMES
It’s early afternoon when we wake up the next day. Luckily, it’s Monday, and Orso is closed, so neither of us needs to rush to work.
Still half-snoozing in bed, Ozzy burrows his nose into my hair from behind and sighs deeply, his arm banded around my waist. My mind drifts to last night, the emotions attached to the memory still raw and vivid, but this morning I feel … lighter.
Logically, I know that whatever happened last night doesn’t magically fix the lingering wounds that have just begun to heal. But maybe, at least, it helped me connect with feelings that were too amorphous to process. Feelings that were maybe buried too deep, or locked away too tightly, that speaking about them wouldn’t even have helped.
And feeling Ozzy’s weight around me, the sense of security I feel when around him. I can’t help but think that maybe Ozzy is also helping me heal parts of myself that I wasn’t even aware needed healing. I take hisarm, loose around my waist, and hug myself tighter with it. After a few more minutes of soft, lazy cuddling, we finally crawl out of bed.
“Coffee?” Ozzy asks, followed by a yawn and a full-body stretch.
“I’ll make some, I just need a shower first.”
“Great idea, I’ll join you.”
I give him a pointed look. “Small, shitty shower, remember?”
He harrumphs my reply. “I don’t give a shit, sweetheart. Not falling for that excuse again.”
I roll my eyes and fight off a smile. “Fine, I’ll grab you a towel.”
After a cramped shower full of giggles and chaste wet kisses, I slip into a floral summer dress, Ozzy putting back on yesterday’s jeans and red t-shirt.
I make a pot of coffee and walk to the living room with two steaming mugs, where Ozzy is waiting for me. I sit on the opposite side of the couch from him, silently watching him type on his phone while I sip my coffee. His damp hair curls around his ear, full lips slightly pressed together in concentration, his cheeks beginning to show some scruff.
There’s such effortless beauty to his appearance, that I can’t stop staring.
It dawns on me that I’ve never taken a picture of him before.
Placing my mug on the coffee table, I spring to my feet and head for my room.
“Where are you going?” Ozzy says from behind me.
“I’ll be right back!” I yell from down the hallway.
Snatching my phone from the desk, I return to the living room and lean it against the mug on the table.
