His chest shook underneath me with a laugh. “Cling? I believe you ladies call it ‘cuddling.’”
“I hate cuddling,” I said and frowned. “At least, I think I do.”
He laughed harder. “Were you uncomfortable?”
“No. I slept great.”
“Then maybe we should do it every night. Until you hate it again, that is.”
I smiled and resettled on his chest, relishing the feel of his inviting skin under my cheek. Warmth from a surprisingly peaceful sleep enveloped me. I couldn’t help but reach out and run my hand over his suntanned pecs, planes of sprawling hardness with some dark hair. And they were mine to touch, to kiss, to wake up against. He moaned softly . . .
I climbed up swiftly and straddled him, tossing my hair over one shoulder. He raised a perfect black eyebrow at me, and I leaned down to kiss him. He licked my bottom lip and took it gently between his teeth. Propping myself on him, I felt his chest rise and fall faster as the kiss deepened.
He glided his hands over my back and down to my hips, kneading and pulling my ass while my heart rate quickened. He slipped himself inside me easily, as though he belonged there, then pressed his hands against my lower back while he gave me short, deep thrusts.
Our soft moans into each other’s mouths contrasted our rapid-fire fucking the night before. I felt every single inch of him moving in and out of me, every ridge and contour. Despite feeling sensitive and sore, his touch alone had me melting like butter on top of him.
He kissed me thoroughly. Eventually, currents of electric bliss began rippling through me. He secured the back of my neck with one hand while the other splayed on my lower back. I could only whimper into his open mouth as my climax crested between my legs and crashed throughout my body. His orgasm started as mine was finishing, and he flexed his hands into my skin, detaining me until he was done. Even after, he didn’t let me go, but continued to kiss me sweetly.
“We slept in,” I noted, glancing at his bedside clock.
“Yeah. We’re supposed to meet my family at the park soon to barbeque.”
“Are we still going by the animal shelter?” I asked.
“Yep.” He heaved a playful sigh. “We might have to save time by showering together.”
I giddily agreed. We got up and moved to the spacious bathroom. Rough stone cooled the soles of my feet, and since glass made up one wall of the shower, my body thrilled at the panoramic views of Lake Michigan. David sat me on the shower’s built-in bench and cleaned himself from between my legs with unnecessary focus. When he straightened up, I was faced with a purple mark on his side.
“Oh, God,” I said, shooting up. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s fine.”
I gently rested my hands on his abs. “Are you okay?”
He grabbed the shampoo bottle. “It’s just a bruised rib.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged. “There’s nothing you can do. I’ve had worse from surfing.”
“What if it’s something serious?”
He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Don’t worry, sweet girl. If anything, it was last night’s activities that aggravated it.”
I clamped my hand over my mouth. “It’s my fault. I didn’t know you were in pain.”
“Trust me, I forgot all about it when we stepped through the door,” he joked. He handed me different shampoo as he began scrubbing his hair.
I inspected the purple bottle. “What’s this?”
“Lady shampoo,” he said.
“What’s lady shampoo?”
“I asked my sister, she says that’s a good brand. I have all sorts of girly shit for you—conditioner, body wash, a pink razor, a fucking pastel loofah.”
I laughed. “Don’tyouuse a loofah?”
