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I grip her ass and help her along. “You look so fucking sexy riding my cock like that, you filthy fucking girl,” I growl at her. “I want to see you come, baby. I want to feel it.”
“I’m so fucking close.”
“I want every tight inch of you clamped down around me, baby. Come on, moan for me, you dirty fucking girl.”
“Oh, fuck, Saul.” She gasps, twitching as the orgasm takes her. I thrust then, filling her up as she comes, and it’s the sweetest, most perfect thing I’ve ever seen. Her cheeks flush, her back arches, her mouth forms a perfect little ring. It’s the image that’s been haunting me since that first night together, and it rips into me like a hurricane.
I come deep inside of her, unable to hold back. I explode, growling like a beast, and she grinds down to milk every drop out of me. It’s intense, world-shattering, and she collapses into my arms when we’re finished.
“I need to get my ass beat up more often,” I whisper as I kiss her neck.
She’s smiling, her eyes fluttering. “Best part of being pregnant? No need for condoms. Can’t get knocked up twice.”
“That’s the best part?”
“Definitely isn’t the puking, the sore tits, and the aching feet.”
“Good point. I’ll have to fuck you more often.”
She purrs slightly and shakes her head. “Nuh-uh, not happening. This was a one-time night. A temporary weakness.”
“You were temporarily worried about me.”
“If you die, there goes my gravy train.”
“That’s all I am to you? A good dick and lots of money?”
“Don’t pretend like you’re insulted.”
I laugh and nuzzle her neck. “No, you’re right. I fucking love it.”
She sighs and sprawls onto her back. I can’t keep my hands to myself as I pull her against me. They roam over her breasts, over her stomach, down to the heat between her legs. Which makes her promptly close her knees.
“Easy, boy,” she says, wiggling her hips. “We’re done for the night. That’s closed for business.”
“I suspect I know how to make you open up again.”
“Doubtful.” But she’s giving me a smile that suggests she wants me to try.
Chapter 16
Molly
My knees hit the cold tile floor in front of the toilet and I puke half a second later.
It’s a little past six in the morning and I barely made it on time. Saul’s still asleep in the bedroom behind me and I try to get sick as quietly and as dignified as possible, but that’s not realistic. Puking’s never pretty, and I’m slick with sweat by the time the nausea passes and I lean my head against the wall.
I’m tired. I don’t feel like getting up. There’s a pleasant ache between my legs where Saul was buried last night. Buried more than once, to my great displeasure.
I didn’t plan on having sex with him. I was really worried, but there was no part of me that thought banging would solve anything. But the moment I saw the bruises and realized how much pain he was in, I needed to do something.
So I grabbed his dick.
Not the most rational choice. I’ll own that.
Then all those memories came flooding back and I wanted to know how good that dick felt between my legs. And naturally, I had to get a taste of him first.
Really fucked that one up.
