The last thing I think of before my mind goes completely dark is “pigasus.”
Now, I should be satiated for a little while. Fuck, I actually saw stars floating before my eyes. The plan was to hold for a little longer, but feeling her come so fucking hard got the best of me—again.
I can’t recall the last time I’ve had such a long stretch without sex, so my stamina isn’t what it used to be. I’m sure my freckled dork won’t mind helping me work my way up again. She’s as insatiable as I am, always demanding more.
Lucky isn’t an adjective I’d use for myself, especially given the past few months, but I feel like the luckiest man on the planet as I slowly return to my senses. There’s a broad smile stretching my lips when I kiss Andrea’s shoulder.
“Make-up sex is fucking phenomenal,” I let out, still a little breathless. “Breakup sex was great, but this… phew…”
The little giggle of approval I expected doesn’t come, so I give her a few more seconds to recuperate. I pull the sex toy from under her and switch it off before throwing it on the bed. That was a lot more fun than I anticipated, and I’ll be using it again in the future. A lot.
When I notice how still she is, a frown forms on my forehead.
“Andrea?”
No response.
Using my hold on her middle, I lift her up with me, sitting her onto my lap as I kneel on the bed. She remains perfectly limp in my arms, head rolling back onto my shoulder, eyes half shut, jaw slack.
“Andrea?!” I call again, shaking her a little.
Still nothing.
“No, no, no, no…”
My heart, which was just returning to normal, begins hammering against my ribs. What the fuck have I done?!
“Andrea, say something,” I beg, freeing a hand to grab her loose jaw and shake her. “Fuck!”
I look around, trying to think of what I should do. What the fuck is happening? Did I kill her with my cock? Is that even a thing?!
It’s nearly impossible to think through the panic wreaking havoc in my brain, but I must. I’m not losing her. Not when I just got her back.
Her phone is within arm’s reach, so I swiftly grab it, making sure she’s still secured against me. “Stay with me, my love,” I command, dialing the three emergency digits.
My agitation and dread grow worse with every tone, and by the time someone—a woman—picks up, I’m a mess. “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
“My girlfriend, she’s—she passed out.”
“Have you checked for a pulse?” the woman asks, unfazed.
Fuck, I probably should have done that before calling. I tuck the phone between my ear and shoulder and press two fingers on Andrea’s neck, right over her jugular. When I feel her heartbeat, strong and still a little hectic, I let out a relieved breath. “She has one,” I answer, grabbing the phone again.
“Is she breathing?”
I don’t need to check to confirm, since her chest rises up and down with her lungs. “Yes.”
“Did she take anything?”
“Like what?”
“Drugs, narcotics, pharmaceuticals …”
“No, nothing, she—”
“Who are you talking to?” Andrea’s small, ragged voice asks.
Relief has my whole body sagging, my arm around her, still bracing her onto me. “Andrea! Are you okay?!”
