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She glanced up at him, you’re-full-of-shit clear in her dark eyes, but she didn’t voice the truth she so obviously knew. Instead, she left one hand on his fucked-up thigh, not rubbing it or getting all into the scars but just like she was acknowledging it as a part of him. Then she used her other hand to hold the base of his hard cock before dipping her head down and licking the head. A jolt of lust slammed into him, and he let out a harsh breath. She winked at him as if to let him know he hadn’t seen anything yet and took him all the way into her warm mouth.
“Fuck,” he groaned, fisting his hands at his sides as she bobbed her head on his dick.
If she was getting back at him for going back for seconds after she’d come the first time, he was more than willing to take the punishment. Then she started to move her tongue, stroking his cock as she took him in slow and easy until her lips met her hand fisted around the base of his cock. She squeezed before moving her hands around to his ass and pulling him closer. God, did she know what she was asking of him when he was already barely holding onto his control? Of course she fucking did. This was Astrid. The woman always knew what she wanted. Giving in to her encouragement, which was muffled by his dick filling her mouth, he let his head fall back and sank his fingers into her long, thick hair, pressing his hips forward. Again and again, he slid past her full lips as she smoothed her tongue around him and teased him with the edge of her teeth.
“Astrid,” was all he could get out while a million mind-meltingly good sensations went off like fireworks inside him, hitting him all at once to the point that he had to step back or abandon all hope of sinking balls-deep in that soft pussy of hers.
She wiped away the moisture at the corner of her mouth with her thumb, looking every bit as wicked and wanton as he could ever want.
“You really are everything,” he said, the truth slipping out before the words had even fully formed in his head.
She blushed, the pink tint in her cheeks making her even more delectable, and he was half tempted to say more, but he stopped himself before he could fuck things up with words and grabbed a condom from the drawer in his nightstand.
Astrid moved back on the bed and turned onto her stomach as he rolled it on, propped up on her forearms she watched him with unabashed lust that only made his cock harder. It hadn’t taken this much concentration to put on a condom since he was a teenager. Of course, he hadn’t known Astrid then, and if he had, the sight of her with that high, round ass of hers in the moonlight would have made him come before he’d put it on.
Hell, he was barely holding onto the last thread of self-control as it was.
“Cal,” she asked, twirling a long strand of dark hair around her finger, “are you going to stare at me or are you gonna come fuck me?”
He had a response to that, but all that came out was a low, rough growl of a sound as that thread snapped. Then he was on the bed with her, flipping her over onto her back and sinking deep into her. For a second, he forgot the rest of the world, forgot there was even a world out there. Christ. Sex was good. This was different. Astrid was different. Part of him knew he was in trouble here; something was changing, and he had no fucking clue what it was. The answer was just on the edge of everything when she cupped his face in her hands and wrapped her legs around his hips.
“Kiss me,” she pleaded, her half-closed eyes hazy with lust.
As if she’d ever have to beg him for anything. He dipped his head down, and the second their mouths touched, it was all over for him. The want. The need. The have-to-have was overwhelming. Rolling onto his back because he wanted—needed—to watch her, he held her hips tight as she rode him, her tits bouncing as she rocked on his cock.
“Are you close?” she asked, her thumb tracing the line of his bottom lip.
“I’ll hold on,” he ground out, fighting the urge to let go right then. “Wait for you.”
She replaced her thumb with her fingers and slid them into his mouth. “Suck.”
He did, getting them nice and wet for her. And when she pulled them out and then leaned back, bracing one hand on his good thigh, he held his breath in anticipation because he knew what was coming next. As always, Astrid did not disappoint.
“Watch me come on your cock,” she said, demanding her due.
Then she rubbed her clit with those fingers wet with his spit, circling it so fast it was almost a blur. He couldn’t look away. Her pussy got tighter and tighter the closer she got as she touched herself and fucked him, taking him deep as he lifted his hips and brought her down hard on him in time with her movements; he lost it, coming hard and fast.
“Don’t stop, Cal,” Astrid said. “So close.”
He didn’t. He couldn’t. He’d never do that to her. So even as sensitive as his dick was, he kept going until she came for a third time and collapsed against his chest.
Later, after he’d gotten rid of the condom and crawled back in bed with her, Astrid made a few tired noises about getting up and going home.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, pulling her up against him and trying not to notice how well they fit together.
She let out a quiet snort-giggle. “That so?”
“It is.” He slid a hand around her belly, spreading his fingers wide as if he could leave his mark. “Good night, Astrid.”
She let out a sigh and snuggled back against him. “Good night, Cal.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Astrid should be a wreck of anxiety right now. Her skin should be prickly with the urge to get up and get out of here now. Her gaze should be flickering all over the dark room, locating the little piles of clothes that were her jeans, her shirt, her bra, and her panties. Her brain should be counting the seconds of each of Cal’s breaths to ensure he wasn’t just kinda asleep but was deep asleep.
Instead, her ass was snuggled up against Cal’s semi-hard dick, and she was fighting not to fall back asleep even though experience had proven that this was the perfect time to sneak out. He had one arm slung over her waist with his hand cupping one of her boobs. Every once in a while, he mumbled something about carburetors in his sleep, but otherwise he was completely out. She could wiggle out of his hold without any effort.
The only problem was she didn’t want to—and that was a real problem.
