Just as fast, a pillow covers my face, and I clutch it withboth hands as he circles his tongue rapidly over my clit. My back arches, and my noises are muffled.
Orgasm surges to life in my belly. My hips circle in time with his movements, and my legs start to shake as he drags me closer to that magical cliff with every stroke. Three more passes, and I fly over the edge, stomach jerking, legs quaking, mind erased.
He kisses my lower belly, and stands, and I hear the rip of foil. I’m still buzzing when I toss the pillow aside so I can see his face.
He’s focused, feverish, lining up his cock at my entrance. He drags it up and down, coating himself in my orgasm before finding the place and driving it home with one hard thrust.
We both groan loudly, and he bends his arms, lowering his face to the pillow beside me to muffle his own noises. Hearing his desire makes me hotter, and I lift my hips to take him deeper.
He’s thrusting fast, scooting me across the bed with every hit. I squirm beneath him, grasping his shirt, pulling it up so I can trace my nails over his luscious body.
Our skin slaps together, and he rises again. I hold his neck, doing my best to ride him as he fucks me hard and fast. A bead of sweat trickles down his cheek, and I lean up to kiss it away, savoring the taste of salt on my tongue.
Again, our mouths collide, chasing and licking, and all at once he holds, groaning deeply as I feel him coming inside me. His dick pulses and his arms circle my waist, pulling me flush against his body.
It’s primal and perfect, our bodies melding together. We’re still breathing fast, and his large hands smooth my hair back from my face as he kisses my cheek, my eye, then down to my mouth.
Holding his face, I kiss him back. It’s less frantic now, more savoring, tasting. We’re returning to Earth together, holding onto each other.
“Come here.” He takes a second to dispose of the condom, then he lays on the bed beside me, gathering me into his arms.
My cheek is against his chest, and I listen to his heart beating steadily, gradually slowing. I listen to his breath swirling in and out as he traces his fingers along the line of my back.
It’s so peaceful, so secure, my eyes start to close.
“You’re not bad at sex.” His voice is a low vibration against my cheek, and my eyes pop open. “You’re actually very good at sex. Ten out of ten.”
I lift my head. “You heard that?”
A grin curls his lips. “I was walking out to check on Ladybird’s progress, and I overheard you and Heather talking. That Baxter’s a dickhead.”
“Yes, he is.” I nod, resting my head on my hand.
My eyes trace down the line of his shoulder to the swell of his bicep. He lifts his finger, tracing it along the line of my hair and sliding a piece behind my ear.
I blink up to meet his eyes, needing to know. “What are we doing, Owen?”
His lips press, and his brow furrows briefly. “We’re having fun. I’m trying to understand why I don’t feel guilty being here with you.”
“Because of Maddie?”
“Not really. I’m pretty sure my daughter adores you.”
“The feeling is mutual.” I smile.
He blinks down. “After my wife died, I swore I was done. I’d never build my life around someone again. It hurt too bad to lose it.”
“You were grieving.”
“It was more than that.” His voice is rough. “I wanted to bury that part of me with her. I wanted to shut it off.”
We’re quiet, and my chest aches. I don’t know what to say, so instead, I ask softly. “How did she die?”
He hesitates. The second hand on an old analog clock ticks once, twice…
“Her heart stopped. She had Maddie, and that was it. They couldn’t bring her back.”
“Oh.” My stomach drops, and I sit up, holding the sheet over my body. “Owen, I’m so sorry.” I imagine him with a newborn. “You must’ve been devastated.”
