Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
I need her everywhere at once, and although it didn’t work the first time, I’m a slave to my need as I shift my weight and settle on top of her.
I don’t waste a second, shoving my boxers all the way off. I don’t bother to do much more than moving her panties to the side to gain full access to her lower half.
I freeze the second I press the tip of my cock against her slickness. There’s a certain amount of clarity that comes along with a bare cock touching a bare pussy. Any man that says he forgot when it comes to contraceptives is a liar. There’s no mistaking what it feels like when comparing the two.
It’s not that I’ve forgotten a condom. It’s simply that I don’t fucking care to use one.
“Josh,” she whispers.
She isn’t shoving me away but trying to pull me closer, and that’s all I need to press deeper inside of her. I don’t know if it feels differently for her, but the sensation of warmth swallowing the length of my dick in combination with her slick grip, I have to take a moment, my hips static, to enjoy it.
“Fuck,” I groan.
It’s all I can manage before mindless urgency wins out.
There are no other words spoken. No soft pleas of more. She doesn’t beg me to go harder or deeper. She seems as lost to the pleasure as I am.
It’s utter perfection. The kind of sex that leaves a man broken. An experience that leads to wars and genocide. As I pull back and press forward, it becomes obvious that she was so fucking right. This is the best thing in the world—not the sex alone, but sex with her.
Her legs lift, her knees pressing into my sides as I shift and push into her as far as I can go, taking the groan from her lips with my own.
Her fingers dig into my back, sweat coating both of us as we slide together.
I’m unable to give her any warning because the orgasm hits me out of nowhere, and since Brynn is not one to ever be left behind, she reaches between us, her fingers sweeping over her clit as I pulse inside of her.
I swear to God, my orgasm renews at the first sign of her clenching release.
I’m shaking, both from the pleasure and the effort it takes to hold myself above her with only one leg for leverage.
“Fuck,” I hiss as I list to the side and fall on to the bed.
I end up face down in the pillows, my spent cock pressed against her thigh, but I have no hope of moving anytime soon.
I don’t know how long she’s had her hand on my back when I come back to reality, but the arching sweep of her thumb seems even more intimate than the sex we shared.
I jolt when she speaks.
“I thought you were mad at me,” she whispers as she rolls over in my direction, draping her mostly naked body over my back.
Those fingers trail up my side and back down, and suddenly I’m once again self-conscious when her hand inches closer to my residual limb. I shift, making it known I’m planning to move, and sit up on the edge of the bed when she pulls back.
“We can’t do that anymore,” I say, hating myself for the flat tone I use with her.
Silence swarms around me like we’re both in the eye of the hurricane, seconds away from getting our asses handed to us without having any way to control the outcome.
I don’t know why I expect tears and begging, why I anticipate her trying to reason with why we could continue to meet each other in the dark.
I misjudged her. Hell, maybe I misjudged this entire situation.
“I’m going back to Cerberus tomorrow,” she says, her tone as flat as mine was when I told her this is ending. “I’ve made arrangements for you to get to counseling and PT. I have an early start tomorrow. Shut my door behind you when you leave.”
My first instinct is to argue, to pick a fight because I never imagined her being so calm about any of this, but starting trouble makes no sense.
I pull my boxers back up to my waist and leave her room, thinking I’m the one that read too much into what was going on between us. I’m the one who shut it down, but as I settle back into my bed for another night of restless sleep, I can’t help but think that I’m the one who’s losing something here.
Chapter 25
Slick
I’m not a sneaker. I don’t tiptoe quietly in an effort to avoid any type of situation unless we’re on a mission and stealth is needed. I don’t run from confrontation or hedge my words when I feel like something needs to be said.