I’m not sure which one of us tips over the edge first, but whoever it is drags the other one with them.
My body pulsates, trembling with pleasure as wave after wave of undulating ecstasy surges through me on a wail.
When I catch my breath, I lie back on the bed next to a panting Tate. There’s a flash of a grin, a wickedness in his eyes, and he’s already pulling my shirt off.
“I’m not done with you, She Devil. I need more.”
He’s still soft, so he plunges his fingers inside me as he tweaks my nipples with his free hand.
“What if I don’t want more?” I’m a fucking liar, a lying liar who tells all the lies because I do want more, I want his whole fucking arm inside me until I drench him with come.
He pinches my clit, and when I yelp, he squeezes even harder. “Liar, liar, clit on fire.”
My moan is drowned out by him taking my lips in his and kissing me. I’m not sure which of us is more eager for him to get his mouth unlocked. I just want to take his face and kiss him senseless.
I claw at his bare chest.
“Love it when you get nailsy.”
I sink my nails into his pec, and he growls.
“Love it when you get growly.”
“I’m sorry I kneed you in the face.” He sweeps his fingers over my still-throbbing cheek before dotting a kiss onto my forehead. “People are going to think I hit you.”
“You did. With your kneecap.” I giggle. “I can’t believe I didn’t predict you’d spasm and flail when I tickled you. Who knew you were so ticklish?”
“I’d have told you if you’d asked.” He blows a raspberry on my nipple, making me shudder.
As much as I want to come again, I need to ask him something first. “Tate?”
His head snaps up, either at the tone of my voice, or the fact I used his real name. Maybe both.
“Why do guys wanna stick things in the outbox?”
He chuckles. “You mean anal?”
Nodding, my cheeks heat. Ain’t nothin’ goin’ near my poop-chute. Never. Not ever. That’s a one-way system for a reason.
“It’s pretty fucking hot. Forbidden. No risk of getting knocked up. It’s raw, dirty...”
The way he’s talking about my ass makes me clench it. Sure, I’m curious, but mostly grossed out. Ew. No.
I’ll stick to the old fashioned way.
“See?” He nuzzles my breast with his lips and nose. “I told you that you needed another orgasm, you’re way too think-y for someone who just lost it on my cock. Let me see what I can do about that.”
CHAPTER 31
Tate
It’s Thanksgiving morning, and I’ve just been given the golden chalice, the Super Bowl ring, the fucking Stanley cup.
Stepping out into the cool winter sunshine from the hospital, I’ve got more of a spring in my step than I did before. I open my mouth, wiggle my jaw, and slide my fingers up the side of my face.
Freedom.
It’s a little early, but the surgeon said the films looked good, my mouth is healing, and it’s time to take out the fucking wires.
