Page 30
“Goddamn,” she breathes.
Flipping my hand, I find her sweet spot and stroke it.
Slowly, caressing the front wall.
She shakes, pinned down beneath my hand. With my other hand, I reach around her hips and beneath her to find her clit. The soft strokes inside turn into loud, messy thrusts as I work her clit in firm circles. She’s so turned on, she’s clamped down hard enough it hurts. Pushing herself up on the heels of her palms, she rocks, fucking herself with my fingers.
She’s so damn wet, like she’s been waiting months for this.
“Don’t stop,” she gasps.
I fucking don’t. Wetness drips from her pussy and onto my hand. I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but it’s not for her to let out a sharp sound and come so hard she squirts in short, little bursts. Staining the bed and running over my knuckles. We didn’t get this far the first time, so I failed to mention it’s a particular interest of mine and has been for a while. It’s like a shot of adrenaline, and I need it again.
My fingers keep going.
“Stop, God, please,” she gasps.
I do, reluctantly pulling my fingers out. “Too sensitive for my dick?”
“No, I’d like dick, please.”
Lining myself up, I push in from behind. Being inside right after she came is a whole new level of pleasure. Her eyes roll back, hips lifting. I slide all the way in, and this time, don’t give her time to adjust before I sink over her and start thrusting hard. After that, we’re just fucking with the bed slamming against the wall and the sheets ritching down until they hit the floor. I swear I can smell how turned on she is; it’s all over my thighs.
The thing that surprises me most is how damn loud she is in bed. We had to be quiet the first round. Well, apparently that’s not how she is naturally because she’s gasping, moaning, and begging for more, even though I’m balls-deep already.
That tracks. She’s never been able to shut up.
I fucking love it. All her moaning strokes my ego. So hard, it turns out, that I come before I mean to. We both go still, me panting over her body, her on her belly underneath.
I don’t want this to end.
I don’t want to pull out and release this feeling. But I have to, so I withdraw and sink down beside her on my back. She sighs, a sweet raspy sound, and rolls over, brushing her hair out of her sweaty face. Her chest heaves, pink nipples hard. Next time, I plan on coming on those. I reach for her, but she darts up and grabs her bra and panties, putting them on.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To shower, then eat something,” she says.
“Well, make yourself at home then.”
She turns around and shakes her ass at me, then flounces into the bathroom and slams the door. I stare after her for a second. She was sassy before; clearly, in the last year it’s gotten worse.
“Can you bring me my luggage?” she yells.
I sit up, peeling off the condom. “Jesus Christ,” I murmur. “I guess it’s right back to normal.”
“What?”
“Nothing, I’ll get your luggage,” I call back.
And I do, because I really want to get laid again. Maybe, for other reasons, too, that I’m not prepared to grapple with right now.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SERENA
I shower, then, wrapped up in a bachelor towel, I go through all his cabinets to see if he brings other women here. It’s empty: a single bottle of shampoo, face wash, moisturizer, and men’s lotion next to the hand soap. There’s a box between the two sinks. I open it, and inside sits a razor and some shaving accessories. There’s no sign of anything remotely feminine. I snap it shut. Good, I might not be his, but it would still annoy me if he was sleeping around. I dry my hair and open the door long enough to drag my bag through, then slam it without looking at him.
Being polite to him while I’m here isn’t a priority.
