His lips take mine as his slides inside me with a long, deep groan.
He rocks into me again. “Oh my God, Jane,” he breathes. “You feel so fucking good.”
Our pace is lazy and fluid. Every breath a low pleading moan.
Dex lifts my hands to the pillow above my head, lacing his fingers with mine. His mouth meets mine, his tongue dipping in, and with every slow thrust his hands squeeze tighter around mine.
“It never felt like this before,” I murmur.
He mumbles out string of expletives mixed with my name. I meet each of his thrusts. My limbs tremble with an intensity I never felt before. “Oh, God, Dex…”
“Jane,” he whispers, “I’m so close, fuck,fuck.”
“Don’t stop,” I plead. My orgasm builds up slow, until both of us are panting and crying out each other’s names.
Dex collapses next to me with a grunt. His arms envelop me and his breath is hot against my ear. “You just ruined me, Nash.”
I rest my cheek against his chest and listen to the thumping of his heart. “Did I?”
He plays with a wild strand of my hair, “Mmmhmmm.”
I immediately want to do it again and cringe to myself. Have I become a nymphomaniac? I mean, the condition sounds sexy in theory until my little hummingbird libido cranks its dial all the way to full capacity and I’m humping furniture because I’ve broken Dex’s dick from overuse.
Or I get a really horrible UTI. I need to use the bathroom RIGHT NOW.
I bolt straight up into a sitting position.
“Hey, where you going? I was comfortable.” He grabs for my waist. “Let’s stay like this until we have to go in to work.”
The covers tangle and wrestle with my legs. Those stupid things have a mind of their own. I pin them down and climb off the bed and freeze.
“What? What’s the matter?” Dex is staring at me, worry etched across his face.
I shake my head. “Nothing,” I lie. It never occurred to me, like ever, the stuff we just did would eject itself right out of me the minute I stood up. I squeeze my thighs together as part of him oozes down my leg. I want to gag. It’s a jizz drip.
What else is there to call it?
Thank God it’s semi-dark in this room, because this shit is embarrassing.
They don’t mention this bit in all the romance books I read. Hell, they never told me this in sex ed either. How do people get pregnant if the stuff slides right out of your vag?
Oh, is that where the myth you can’t get knocked up standing up comes from?
This seems like a topic for an in-depth article.
I smile at Dex and wave my hand at him and break the cum-filled silence, “I justreallyhave to use the bathroom.”
I grab the first piece of clothing I can see and wrap it around me. And waddle out of the room as fast as I can. When I get into the hallway and close the door behind me, my leg is cold and damp and weirdly sticky.
Also, Damian is standing there, arms folded across his chest like he’d been waiting for me for hours. “It’s about time,” he huffs.
“Get out of my way,” I say, shuffling past him.
He narrows his eyes at me.
“Damian, go away,” I whisper-yell.
“Simon. Don’t call me Damian anymore.” He tilts his head and looks from me to my bedroom door and back to me. “Are you walking funny?”
