I straddle him, looking at him to see what comes next.
His eyes sweep over my body, and he groans, “You’re so damn beautiful, Byrdie.”
“I’m really not,” I say.
“You absolutely are. And I intend to keep saying it, and showing you, until you believe it.” His hands slide up over my hips and caress my breasts.
My head tilts back. “That feels so good,” I moan.
“Then we’ll do it this way, so I can keep touching you.”
“Do what?”
With his hands on my ass, he nudges me back and onto him. My pussy sinks down over him.
All the breath leaves my body in a rush. The thoughts not centered right between my thighs empty right out of my head. All I do is feel each inch Nash works into me. He retreats, then thrusts again.
I don’t know when I started moving with him, but I push down as he thrusts up. His strong fingers never stop tweaking my nipples into hard points, his firm hands cupping me and making me feel so good.
The room is awash with the wet sounds of sex. He groans as he finds a new depth inside me. I moan and whimper as I slide up and down his cock.
“Nash…”
He picks up his pace at the neediness in my voice.
I ride him faster, twisting and bucking, gripping his wrists as I start to fall. My mind cascades, and I slip out of rhythm, biting my lip to silence my scream.
As I ripple around him, he rolls us, slides his hands under my knees, and pushes them wider apart as he pumps into me. Each hard pound drives me up the bed. I hold on to him, moaning and bucking as I climax again while he strains and half-collapses onto me.
He moves almost immediately. “Shit. I didn’t crush you, did I?”
Mind foggy with pleasure as his cock jerks inside me, I yawn and burrow closer. “No.”
He murmurs something in my ear that makes me smile. “I love you, too.”
Nash is smiling as he presses a kiss on the side of my neck and pulls the covers up over us both.
I never expected Nash to wake me with tickles.
He’s grinning down at me, naked and relaxed as I nearly roll right off the bed to escape fingers primed to find every ticklish spot on my body.
I stop laughing and yelp when I crack the back of my head against the headboard.
Nash stops tickling, immediately concerned. “Shit, are you okay?”
I start to respond while rubbing my head when a soft thump from behind me briefly silences me. “What was that?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he says, and leans to the side. “Nothing on the floor. Whatever it is must be on your side.”
I lean down and spy something wedged at the back. “There’s something there.” I squint as I reach for it, struggling to make it out. “A book.”
I wiggle as I force it out through the narrow gap between the bed and the wall. I have a sneezing fit as I pass the book to Nash. “Here.”
He offers me a tissue from the bedside table and gives me a sympathetic smile, then his eyes drop to the book as I blow my runny nose.
He’s white.
I rub my red nose as I eye him curiously. “What is it?”
