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“You’re so beautiful,” I say as I look at her messy hair and sparkling eyes.
“Stop trying to get back on my good side.” She tightens her thighs around me, creating some light friction against my erection, and I groan.
“As soon as I get you off for the first time, all will be forgiven,” I say, kissing her.
“You think?”
“Hmm. If not, I’ll just have to keep going until we’re good.”
“It might take a really long time.” She unwraps her arms from around my back and strips her shirt off over her head.
“Works for me,” I murmur.
Abby’s even hungrier for me tonight than she was the first time. She kisses me deeply and moans with satisfaction as I slowly undress her and run my lips over her bare skin. Sex has always been fun for me, but it’s more earnest with Abby. She’s uninhibited and invested. Abby doesn’t just lie in bed passively. She gives and takes with a passion that makes it clear she doesn’t just want this—she needs it.
As I slide her panties down, she arches her back and cries out softly.
“I want your mouth on me,” she whispers.
“Can’t quite hear you,” I tease, kissing her inner thigh.
“Luca…”
“Abby.” I kiss my way down her leg to her knee, and she curls her fingers into my hair.
“Lick my pussy,” she says softly.
“Hmm? A little louder, gorgeous.”
She groans with frustration and then raises her voice. “Lick my pussy. Now.”
My mouth is on her within seconds, the tip of my rock-hard cock pressed against the mattress. She tastes as sweet as I remember, and the way she pulls my hair and rocks her hips is driving me crazy.
I tease and lick before easing one finger into her, and then another. When I brush my tongue over her clit again, she lets out a long, loud moan. God, it’s fucking hot to feel her coming apart. She comes hard before lazily falling back down to the mattress.
“You’ve got a gift,” she says, her tone soft and sated.
I lie on my back beside her. “I like making you feel good.”
Abby turns my way and kisses me softly, wrapping her hand around my swollen shaft at the same time.
“Ah…shit.” I groan at the feel of her fingertips gently caressing me.
She kisses her way down my chest, my cock throbbing hard as she goes lower. By the time she runs her tongue around my tip, I already feel like I could come.
“You want me to fill that pretty little mouth up, don’t you?” I run my hand over her hair in a gentle caress.
“Yes.”
She plays with me some more first, though, licking and kissing my cock while stroking my balls. I have to fist the sheets to keep control.
“Abby…fuck.”
When she slides her mouth over the crown of my cock this time, she doesn’t stop. She takes me all the way, her wet, warm mouth working me into a fast frenzy. I’m getting close, my hips working up and down just slightly, in time with her mouth.
Then she shocks the shit out of me when she slides a single, wet finger into my ass. I come so hard, I roar as I fist her hair and unload in her mouth.
“Good?” she asks as she sits up, wiping a hand across her mouth.
I let out a single note of laughter. “Fucking amazing.” I lift an arm, encouraging her to come snuggle into my side. “You’ve got a gift, too.”
She kisses my shoulder, tracing her fingertip over the jagged scar there.
“What happened?”
“Freak accident on the ice. A bunch of us were fighting during practice and another guy’s skate blade got me.”
“Oh, ouch. When?”
“High school.”
I kiss the top of her head and she drapes one of her legs over mine.
“I know you said you can’t stay all night, but how long do I have you?” she asks.
“Late. I just can’t sleep here when we’re done.”
She leans up on an elbow and looks down at me. “I don’t want us to talk about personal stuff. I like this, and that would ruin it for me. But there is one thing…I need to know you aren’t married.”
Apparently she’s not sure I was telling the truth last time she asked me. But I get it. The fact that I can’t stay the night probably seems like a red flag. “No. Never even gotten close to married. That’s not why I can’t sleep here.”
Her expression relaxes into a smile. “Good.”
“And you’re not married either, right?”
I know she’s not, but I’m hoping to get a little more information out of her than last time.
“No.”
“Divorced?” I trail a fingertip down her spine, hoping in her relaxed state, she’ll share something.
“Widowed.”
“Oh, shit. Abby, I’m sorry.”
Her smile isn’t as carefree this time. “It’s okay, but this is why I don’t want to talk about personal stuff. It just creates feelings like pity that get in the way.”
