AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m still coming when Abel jerks inside me. He shouts—literally yells, a sound the neighbors could hear if he had any—and drops his forehead to mine. He goes still.
The music rushes in to fill the sudden, heavy silence. My body feels like one big heartbeat. Abel’s hot, uneven breaths feather across my face.
He stays like that for a second. Then another. I get the sense that he’s trying to gather himself. Find his footing after being wrecked by an epic orgasm.
I know the feeling.
I put my hand on his nape and glide my fingers into his hair. I kiss the corner of his mouth. Slow and gentle caresses that I hope he finds soothing, because this comedown is brutal.
So is the realization that this could be the last time I ever have Abel in my bed. Or I’ll ever be in his, really.
The man has ruined me. Where will I ever find another guy who makes me feel likethis? Who does the things Abel does? Who possesses his mastery, his urgency, his insanely erotic combination of gentle and rough?
“Jesus,” Abel repeats.
I open my eyes. “Even he’s jealous of the sex we just had.”
Abel laughs, lifting his head so he can press a quick kiss to my lips. His hair is everywhere. A fine sheen of sweat covers his forehead.
This close, I can see the freckles that dot his nose and cheeks.
“Glad you took the Advil, huh?” His beard scrapes my chin as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of my jaw.
“You were right, yes.” He’s still inside me. His big body all over mine. Funny that Mister Noncommittal likes to linger after sex.
“I think we scared away the dogs.” He glances over his shoulder.
“We definitely scared away the dogs.” My heart begins to pound all over again as I mentally move through what happens next.
I am not ready for Abel to go. I want him here all night so we can have sex seventy more times. As many times as our bodies allow.
It’s the orgasms that I want. At least that’s what I tell myself.
The orgasms, and the freedom to explore fantasies I didn’t even know I had.
Abel shifts his position a little. “Let’s get you cleaned up. I’m gonna pull out, okay?”
I hold him against me. “Okay.”
A flash of pain when he rocks back his hips. I’m already sore.
Some sick, twisted part of me is aroused by that fact. I like having the memory of him there between my legs.
He goes to the bathroom while I stay in bed, pondering what happens next. Most of the time, I didn’t spend the night with Brian. He’d either leave my place, saying he had an earlywake-up call the next morning, or I’d leave his, quick to play the cool girl by ordering my own Uber.
In retrospect, the whole thing was depressingly cliché.
Abel emerges a few minutes later with a clean washcloth. I scurry to the bathroom, praying he doesn’t leave, and let out a silent sigh of relief when I scurry back and see him stretched out on the bed. His arm is bent, hand behind his head.
He is gloriously naked.
Our eyes meet. The air smells like sex and him. What I would give for this to be my view every night.
But that’s a dangerous thought, so I shove it aside and climb into bed beside him. He immediately rolls onto his side and presses the washcloth to my center. I close my eyes. The warmth feels delicious. So does being taken care of.
“I’m proud of you,” he says.
I crack open an eye. “For what?”
