“Hardly.” Not wanting to complain, I bite my lip when he finally looks at me as if he doesn’t believe me.
We stare at each other for a few passing seconds again, silence passing between us. His chest swells after being deflated for far too long.
“Fits perfectly fine.” Grunting, he moves to shut off the light, but not before I notice he’s in the same state as moments before.
He’s hard again, and it looks like I’m not getting anything else to put on.
8
Ripper
I wake up with her in my arms, her back curved against my stomach.
This is unreal. Instead of wanting to pry body parts off of me, I want to get impossibly closer. I can’t remember the last time I woke with such a lovely view.
My shirt looks so good on her; I can hardly look away, especially when the cool morning air gives me an even better view, with two pretty peaks pressing against the white fabric.
She makes this tired, groaning sound when I pull her closer to my chest, not willing to separate ways just yet. Her legs curl and stretch before a little sigh leaves her lips.
“Are you always worked up?” Tiredly batting my hand away, her words are raspy and soft. Sexy as hell.
She’s referring to my cock and the way it’s wedged up against her. Swollen hard, even I’m surprised.
I may take the world record for having the hardest dick for the longest time.
“Who’s fault do you think it is?” Palming her stomach, I drag my fingers against her body. “Have you taken a look in the mirror?”
I expect her to enjoy my compliment, but she’s stiffening up against my front. Her fingers catch my wrist when I reach the hem of her shirt. Even now, she won’t let me see?
“I’m not looking,” I promise against her hair. “Not with my eyes, I mean. Let me touch you.”
Trying to keep the bite from my words, the hunger is still there, overflowing.
“I have never met such a horny man in my life.” Waking up fully, she lets out an annoyed sigh.
I feel the same annoyance, but for an entirely different reason. I don’t like the mention of men one bit when it comes to her.
“Haven.” Lips brushing her ear, my fingers pinch the hem. “I won’t look. I promise. Please.”
Being reduced to begging a woman to let me touch her is a humbling experience, but with great reward. When she releases my wrist, I feel like a kid in a candy store. My hunger easily devours the eagerness to explore her skin once I’m touching heated skin.
“I’ve never met someone so soft.” Groaning against the crook of her neck, I expect to find an anomaly with the way she hides herself, but everything feels normal. Feels perfect. “I bet you’re pretty under my shirt, too.”
She can’t argue when her bottom lip is caught between her teeth and her body is arching against me.
Squeezing her breast, I try to memorize the fullness. Her nipples are hard against my palms.
“I didn’t use my fingers on you yesterday.” Telling her what she already knows, I draw a gasp out past her lips as I tuck my fingers between her thighs.
She’s already slick.
“What kind of dream did you have?” Circling her clit, I try to seek a little relief with a small shift of my hips. “Was I in it? You were in mine.”
The answer I receive is a moan. Her toes curl and her legs twitch. She’s close.
Sliding my hand from her breast up to her throat, I soak in the racing pulse against my fingertips. Groaning against her, the pleasure I feel from just witnessing hers is unreal.
Feeling her pussy flutter against my fingers, she moans my name before her body turns to jelly, leaving her a puddled mess.
