“Oh, fuck me.” Ripping my favorite shirt, I toss it over my head. Then, weight on my elbows, I slide my chest across her hardened nipples.
She sits up enough to grab my open waistband, drags it down my ass, and using her toes, tugs my pants to my feet where I kick them off.
While we move our hands all over each other’s bodies, we explore what makes the other react. My fingers find the zipper over her behind, I tug it down, then squeeze her sweet cheeks. She squirms out of her clothes and lies naked on top of me.
Hands on my shoulders, arms straight, she rides my black boxers, her wet core soaking the fabric.
She’s close to coming so I flip over, drop to the floor on my knees and grab her ankles. I fling them behind my back and flick my tongue over her swollen nub.
“Oh my God.” Digging her heels in, she fists my hair, and yanks.
I inch away from the glistening pink flesh so I can better watch her blossom. As my thumb pad glides across her she quivers and comes. Needing to feel her orgasm, I roll on a condom, and plunge into her shudders.
“Oh fuck.” She locks her ankles behind me, arching up to each of my thrusts.
Not wanting this to end too soon, I bite my lower lip and focus. Thrills shoot down my spine and I fear I may split her in two but when I glance down, her angelic face shows nothing but pure pleasure.
She senses me looking. Those gorgeous ever-changing brown eyes cause my back muscles to tighten, my balls to fill, then I blast off to a place of bliss, forever changed.
~ Chapter 14~
Lanita
Boneless, I lay on top of Dash, and his cock twitches deep within me. No brain cells fire, nor do ghosts of the past haunt me. Am I cured? I had sex and didn’t freak out? At the thought of being normal, I smile and lift my lids.
Staring and grinning, he slides out, ties off the condom, and tosses it in the trash. When he returns, he twists one of my ringlets around his index finger.
This silence should be awkward, but it’s not. I hardly know the man and yet he moved me in a way I thought impossible. Kade and I tried, many times, but I froze. How is this possible?
I shouldn’t overthink this. Tonight, two healthy people engaged in incredibly enjoyable physical activity. I’m sure he’s not one to settle down and I’m not ready for a white picket fence, either. I’m a pilot, a warrior, an AI expert. I want to earn another degree and do something important with my life.
I stretch, cat-like, then kiss his chin. “Thank you.”
Frowning, he sits up on an elbow. “What did you say?”
“Umm… What’s your problem?”
“Seriously?” He hops off the bed and opens a dresser so fast, the drawer tumbles to the carpet. “You make it sound like I did you a favor.”
“Or perhaps, I simply liked having sex with you. I don’t understand you at all.” Sitting, I cross my arms, narrow my gaze, and shoot him irritated laser beams.
His eyes do the same. “Google it.”
Phone in hand, I read off the top answers. “It says if you’re angry, it means you don’t know how to take a compliment.” I stick the screen in his face.
He grabs it out of my hand, types, and shoves it back. “The only person who should say thank you, is someone who paid for it.”
“Let me see that.” I scroll down. “It also says we shouldarm-wrestle for the right to say it first."
Snickering, I recite more ridiculousness and soon we’re laughing hysterically. I wish he’d given me the opportunity to explain how I haven’t had sex since the incident but I’m guessing he might not appreciate my confession.
He might even grow angry again, and think I used him.
As he sleeps, I open my eyes, unable to keep those kinds of thoughts from running through my head. Finally, I give up, pull on my dress, grab my heels, and sneak to the door. Turning the handle, I make sure it doesn’t click when it shuts behind me.
Waiting for the elevator, my subconscious takes sides. Dr. Phil says I should go back and discuss my feelings. GI Jane says no fucking way. You know what, before I ever have sex again, I’m going to wire my jaw shut so I can’t say a damn thing.
In the lobby, I ignore the judging looks and hold my head high, Whatever. I’m a grown-ass woman. My clothes are wrinkled and my makeup’s a mess. Get a life, people.
