Chapter Thirty-Three
Sam
“Meee-uuuu.” Ready for breakfast, Catrina pounces on the futon and my husband groans.
“Can’t you teach her to feed herself?”
“Argh, Monday.” Ducking further under the covers, I tug the pillow over my head to keep our feline from putting her wet nose to mine. “How about we start the weekend over.”
Suds kisses the top of my head, slides his arms around me, and drags me up his naked body. He smells so wonderful my lady lips decide I should be late for work.
I kiss down his chest until I find the object of my search which jumps to life as my mouth covers him.
“Sugar.” Butt off the sheets, he wraps a lock of hair around his knuckles while I curl my fingers around his base and lick his long length.
He swells as my tongue plays around at his tip and my nails dig into his firm behind. He hisses with his fingertips pressed into my scalp. Knowing what drives him wild, I suck. He moans, and arches to the back of my throat. I’m ready to swallow but as I take a deep breath, he pulls out.
In one fast motion, I’m on my back and he’s on top. He plunges, our cores grind and he’s buried so deep, all the air in my lungs exhales.
I gasp, he tugs out completely, and thrusts back in.
Caught off-guard, I cum. Stars explode behind my eyelids as he groans and speeds to his high. Still pulsing, I wrap my thighs around his and hitch my heels to his calves.
Clutching onto his shoulders, I tighten my inner muscles, and hold on for the ride.
“Ah, ah… F-fuck.” His whole body stiffens and with one final, amazing push, he sets me off again as he spurts his hot liquids inside me.
Our aftershocks cycle back and forth and when they stop, he collapses on my chest.
“Merrrrph?” Catrina, hiding in the back of the attic, jumps on Suds’ back and he laughs.
“Sure, sure, little lady. I’m a-comin’” As he decouples, I sigh, then he kisses me.
“Happy Monday.”
“Don’t remind me.”
He grabs the pillow before I can hide again and snaps off my blankets. “Time to get going.”
“You don’t have to deal with the salon ladies.” I roll back onto the bed and he slaps my behind.
“No, but I do have a meeting with Slate in the city.” He has to bend so as not to hit the loft ceiling as he selects a t-shirt from the dresser.
“I’ll trade you.” Giggling at the thought of him with the blue-haired gossips, I lift to my knees on the futon and tickle the back of his legs.
Swatting me away, he chuckles. “You want me to wash hair?”
“My clients would be thrilled and if you don’t wear a shirt, your tips would be record breaking." Feet in the air, I slip into my panties as he balances and slips into his jeans.
I crawl across the futon and kick off the tangled sheets at my ankles. Just as I choose black jeggings and tunic, my phone alarm signals I have five minutes to get out the door.
“Shit. I got to go.”
Eyes dark, he holds me in place. “What if I make you late, huh?”
“You’ll answer to my Aunt Marion.”
“You’d throw me under the bus?” He nibbles my ear as I struggle.
