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With a final powerful thrust, her body tenses. She screams as she explodes in a mind-shattering orgasm. She milks my cock as she squirts.
I growl against her neck, my teeth coming out to nip her. She wraps her legs around me as I grind our pelvises together, chasing my own orgasm.
I start to pull out of her, but her nails dig harshly into my arm.
“It's okay, I'm on the pill. Don't hold back.” The serious look in her eyes confirms she wants this.
My thrusts become even more merciless causing the couch to shake beneath us. With a deep, guttural groan, I spill loads and loads of cum inside her, filling her completely.
I look down at where we are joined. A sense of pride comes unbidden at the sight of my cum leaking down her thighs, her own cum mingling with mine and soaking a spot into the couch.
Breathing labored, I close my eyes, still unable to say anything to her until my head clears. We are done, and yet, I want more of her. Perhaps, when I’m in the comfort of my room, I can make sense of what just happened.
I fucked the living daylights out of Gianna without protection. I have never been this careless with another woman. But ever since I met her, I’ve been making careless decisions. Yet there’s no regret. Just a sudden ache to have her again.
I’m stuck on her.
Chapter 13
Gianna
I stir awake, slowly and gently.
Blotches of light dance in front of my eyes, too bright for me to completely open my eyes. I roll to the side and snuggle my pillow. The faint scent of musk and citrus makes me blink to orient myself.
I rub at my throbbing eyes, trying to remember what happened last night and why my body is sore.
Memories of Chris’s hands exploring every inch of my body, his breathless groans as we rocked together, our fingers laced tightly.
I swallow a lump in my throat and sit up, wincing at the soreness between my legs. I clutch the sheets to my chest.
I still feel the haze of sensations in my limbs, the vibration, and the waves.
After coming down from the high, he carried me from the sofa and deposited me in my bed, where we had gone for another round of reckless fucking. The way we’d both clung to each other desperately, voices breaking.
I climb out of bed and wrap the sheets around me. There are no signs of his clothes anywhere, and my heart sinks. This is what I expected, so why am I feeling let down?
I walk into the bathroom and gasp at the sight of my reflection in the mirror. There are red bruises on my neck, littering down to my collarbone.
A sharp heat coils in my stomach as I recall the way Chris possessively marked my skin.
I place my two hands on the sink. You wanted this. You asked for it. Everything is going according to your plans. So, be happy.
I busy myself with freshening up before shuffling to the kitchen. The smell of toast fills the air.
Did Nala spring a surprise visit on me again?
What I don't expect is to find Chris with his back to me, taking toast out of the toaster.
Time stops. My breath hitches. Shit, he’s here. Chris is here. He's not supposed to be here.
What does that mean? What does it mean?!
He turns, and on seeing me, he breaks into a wide smile. “Hi, sleepyhead.”
“How—Why are you here? I thought you left already.” My voice comes out croaky despite my efforts to sound perfectly okay.
“When I woke up, you were sound asleep, and I felt bad about waking you up. I actually left to freshen up,” he explains, and then I finally notice his change of clothes. He looks more relaxed in a simple white shirt and dark jeans. “I know you must have been pretty tired after last night, so I came back to make breakfast.” He takes a couple of steps forward, looking nervous. “Have I overstepped my boundaries?”
