“Just... like...” Ophelia gritted her teeth, her desire growing stronger and stronger, threatening to spill over. Then he pushed his cock into her slowly. “The summit.”
She pulled up her legs so he could get closer, go deeper, and gripped his arse to pull him in. He thrust deep and hard, and she came apart, dismantling all sense of self as she cried out.
He thrust twice more, and then pulled out, spilling all over her belly. He groaned and rolled to his side, barely fitting on the bed. She felt the loss of his heat, even as she was barely aware of herself apart from him.
“Don’t go far,” she mumbled.
“Can’t,” he panted.
Ophelia peeled one eye open. His head hung down, eyes closed, features slack. She was about to express concern, when he shook his head.
“I thought I wasn’t going to make it. That I would be like one of those animals that dispensed so much seed that it sapped my life force.”
Ophelia laughed, pleased with herself. She looked down at the sticky pool on her belly, pointing. “Is this not normal?”
“Not for any man over the age of thirty.” Julian hoisted himself to his feet and retrieved the infamous rag. He cleaned her gently and threw it back in the washbasin.
“I don’t want you to leave yet,” she said, hoping he would join her back in the narrow bed.
“Surely you jest. Karl would have to bring in four more built just like him to drag me away from your bed.” He slid back into the bed, one arm under her, embracing her.
She was going to say more. There was supposed to be more conversation. “I love you,” she whispered, settling into his shoulder, and that was the last she remembered. Surrounded by his scent, his solid presence, there was nowhere on the earth she’d rather be. At least, for the foreseeable future.
