Maybe it was going so long without being with a man. Maybe it was the slow build up and the “almosts” that day. Maybe it was the lingering effects of the first orgasm. Whatever it was, my kitty could not handle his mouth there. I wassohypersensitive.
“This is embarrassing,” I said in a breathy voice.
Cage crawled up my body. Instant relief washed over me until he settled between my legs. His erection beneath his boxer briefs pressed rightthere.
I gasped.
He dropped soft kisses along my jaw to my ear. “Don’t ever be embarrassed with me. We can stop.”
It was a terrible idea. Sure, I was a hot mess, but we didn’t have to stop. I teased my hands down his back then slipped them into his briefs.
“Jesus… Lake…” He moaned as I curled my fingers into his hard glutes.
His pelvis rocked into mine, my breath hitched again. I needed another glass of wine. My mom wrecked my frame ofmind and derailed my momentum to just go with it without over thinking.
“I need to know…” he rocked into me again and my fingers curled harder into his flesh “…if I need to get a condom or take a cold shower. I…” he panted into my ear “…I’m OK with whatever you decide.” The desperation in his voice betrayed his words.
I smiled. He couldn’t see it, but it was huge. That’s just what I needed to get out of my head. A small piece of his vulnerability was all it took.
“A cold shower sounds really…cold.”
He laughed a little, pressing his lips to my shoulder. “It really does.”
“Maybe…” I pushed his briefs down just far enough to free his erection.
His breaths at my ear became ragged. “Fuck,” he whispered as I wrapped my hand around his cock, warm and hard beneath my fingers.
“Maybe we should work up a sweat before worrying about a shower.”
“I love how you think.” Our mouths collided and we. Did. Not. Stop.
Sweat. So much sweat.
And his mouth? Once I let go, I begged for it.
Lots of begging.
Muffled screams.
Two condoms later, I passed out in his arms, both of us too exhausted to entertain the shower idea until morning.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BOUNCE HOUSES AND BAD TIMING
Three days in China.That’s how long it took me to officially fall in love with the man of my dreams. Although, by man-of-my-dreams definition, I think I loved him from the first day we met. Love was immune to time. Fuck the naysayers and anti-insta-lovers. They were nothing more than bitter people who had never met their “one.”
The morning after we had sex for the first time, I started my period. I blamed Cage at first, claiming he broke my vagina. After he made a sincere offer to take me to the hospital for an X-ray, I conceded the probable explanation was the start of my period. In my dreams—where I controlled the world—men bled out of their penises one week every month. Fair? Yeah, I thought so too.
“My ticket is wrong.” I stared at my phone on our way to the airport. “Thad messed up. I need to call him. He has me going to Portland, but that’s it. I don’t see a ticket to Minneapolis.”
“Thad didn’t book your flight… Well, he helped, but I booked our flights.”
I glanced over at Cage and his dimply smirk. “Oh?”
“I thought we could stay in Portland for a couple days.”
“Oh?” My eyes grew with each “oh.”
