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“Wait.” I held onto her hips, pulling my mouth away from hers. I dug into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. A condom was tucked into it, and I extracted it quickly. Within seconds, I had it open and was rolling it onto my cock.
Dahlia took over, pushing it down as far as it would go before she kissed me again. This assertive side of her sent both frustration and thrills through my body, but I took it. I took whatever I could get because I knew it wouldn’t last.
The second she slid that wet pussy onto my cock, she’d be at my mercy. She’d belong to me, if only for an hour, if only for moments or minutes.
And that was what I wanted.
Her to belong to me.
She grabbed my cock. Positioned her hips above me. Lowered herself.
Pushed her tight, wet, cunt down onto my throbbing, hard cock.
She took me deep. Her muscles clenched as she stretched for me. Heat throbbed through my body like an otherworldly feeling. There was nothing like being buried deep inside her. Nothing.
It was an escape and torture at the same time.
I gripped the back of her neck and pressed my mouth against hers. My scalp tingled when she gripped her fingers into my hair and held onto me tight.
She moved against me.
Rocked her hips.
Flexed her body.
Took my cock like it was second nature.
Like it didn’t make a difference.
She rode me like she was made for me.
I gripped her ass and fucked her like I owned her.
Fucked her ‘til she couldn’t take it anymore and cried out, her lips by my ear. Until I was ready. Until her wet pussy was pleasure and beyond. Until her tight little fucking pussy was clenching for all she was worth and her moans were nothing but ecstasy in my ears.
Until her moans mingled with my groans.
Until I held her so hard I bruised her skin with my fingers, fucking her, pleasing her, pleasing me.
And she owned me.
Until, for mere moments, I owned her, too.
Twenty-One
Dahlia
I tiptoed across the bedroom to the door. Damien was sleeping soundly in the bed, and I didn’t want to be the reason he woke up, but thirty minutes of lying in bed in silence was enough for me.
I took a deep breath and crept through the doorway into the hall. I had to grab my boobs with my hand given the fact I was naked except for my panties. I held on tight as I made my way downstairs and into the utility room. Grabbing a bra and long shirt, I dressed, walking into the kitchen.
It wasn’t early by any means. Ten-thirty blinked the clock on the oven. It glared at me as I started the coffee machine with a yawn. I’d had eight hours of sleep, but it felt like I’d had about two. My head was so damn foggy I was going to need at least three cups of coffee just to get through to the afternoon.
I yawned again.
I had to figure out what to do today since the whole day-off thing was my idea. Unfortunately, I was regretting it. What kind of thing was I meant to do? Should we go swimming? Bake cakes? Swan around doing whatever?
Ugh.
I hadn’t thought this through, clearly.
What the hell was I doing?
The coffee machine sputtered into silence, pulling my attention to my now full mug. I grabbed it with a clink and reached to the fridge for the milk.
I had no idea what I was doing.
When the milk was back in the fridge, I reached for my phone and texted Mia. I knew all about the tempestuous beginning to her relationship with West—in fact, she’d all but admitted he was as much of a pain for her then as Damien was for me now.
Me: What do you do with a workaholic who’s taking his first day off in forever?
I’d barely put my phone down when it buzzed with her reply.
Mia: Have sex with him.
Me: I don’t know why I asked you.
Mia: Are you with Damien??????????
Me: I plead the Fifth.
Mia: Girl Code says that’s a yes.
Me: Eh, Girl Code is ridiculous.
Mia: Are you having sex with Damien?
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
Me: Yes. Right now, in fact. I’m on my knees with the phone under my pillow.
Mia: Smartass.
I laughed, putting my phone down again. That conversation wasn’t going to give me any serious answers. Some people—cough, Mia, cough—could have sex over and over. Abby was another one of those people.
I wasn’t.
At least, I didn’t think I was. I guessed I’d never really had time to find out. Besides, what was better? Lots of quick, sub-par sex, or less of long, earth-shattering sex?
Definitely the earth-shattering sex.
If I wanted quick and unexciting sex, I’d use my fingers.
I sighed heavily and sat down. I felt deflated, like the slip of the moment conversation had been a giant mistake.
