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He huffed in amusement and nodded at my morning wood. “Why don’t you let me take care of that first?”

The morning wood in question twitched eagerly in response. I should’ve been done by now. I was tired, and we’d had frantic, intense sex twice in the night.

But I wasn’t done yet. Definitely not. Especially not when Dan pushed down the comforter with his foot to display his own hard cock, curving up over his belly.

That was how I found myself, ten minutes later, on my hands and knees on the bed as Dan fucked me furiously from behind. I was moaning so loud that I was legitimately worried the neighbours—the other neighbours—would hear us. When my elbows gave out, I rested my head on my forearms and pushed back into every thrust, making him groan through clenched teeth and grip my hips tighter. He leaned over me and reached underneath to fist my cock, stroking it at a fast pace to match his pounding hips.

I seized up and came so hard I couldn’t make a sound, pinpricks of colour bursting against my eyelids and my body trembling wildly. Dan grunted, fucking into me even faster before he followed me over the edge, leaning over my back and resting his hot forehead against my spine.

I moaned hoarsely when he pressed a soft kiss there before straightening and easing his cock out. I couldn’t move, still ass up as I panted weakly.

“I don’t wanna go to work,” I croaked, which made him snort as he smoothed his hands over my backside.

“I bet you’ve never missed a day of work in your life,” he said, helping me turn over and chuckling when my limbs flopped carelessly onto the bed.

I huffed, but couldn’t actually think of a single time when I’d faked being sick or having an emergency. “Nothing wrong with being a hard worker.”

“No, definitely not,” Dan agreed, grinning at me as he leaned over to kiss me. “I, for one, very much appreciate that mindset and dedication when I’ve got you in bed.”

I snorted, reaching up to rub my face as I yawned. “Shit, definitely need to start getting ready now.”

“Sure, kitten.” He climbed off the bed and held out a hand to help me up. Once I was standing, he pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. “Thanks for letting me stay over again.”

“Sure. Yeah. Anytime.” I blushed, wondering if the answer would freak him out. If he’d think I was starting to develop deeper feelings for him or something.

But he just smiled and kissed me again before turning for the door. “I’ll start the shower. You’re right, I can’t go into work smelling like sex.”

My gaze drifted over to the bed once he was out of sight, chest tightening with longing to just climb right back in with him for the rest of the day. Not even for more sex—I was pretty sure I was done for now—but just… to be with him. Just the two of us.

Shit. I was developing deeper feelings for him.

That probably wasn’t good.

—

No one seemed to notice that I was walking slightly bow-legged at work all day.

I wasn’t in pain—I was supernatural and could handle a lot more than a human probably could—I was just… strangely aware of my butthole. It felt tender and still slightly sensitive, reminding me of Dan every time I sat down at my desk.

He snuck into my office after lunch to ask if he could come over again tonight. Obviously I said yes, letting him know that I had to go grocery shopping after work but he could come over as soon as I was home. Then he rounded my desk to crouch beside me, smoothing his hand up my thigh as he asked if I was feeling okay.

“You mean my asshole, right?” I said dryly, which made him snort.

“Yeah.” He leaned up to kiss me. “I just want to make sure I wasn’t too rough.”

“You weren’t.” I grinned and reached over to lightly pinch his chin. “I’ll be ready to go again by tonight.”

Dan chuckled and straightened. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep up with you, kitten. I turn thirty-three next year. What if I start slowing down?”

I paused, not entirely sure how to answer that. Was he imagining us still fucking in a year?

God, I hoped so. I didn’t want to stop.

Maybe after a year of practically acting like we were dating, he’d be open to the idea of actually dating.

I could wait a year.

—