After he carried me to bed, he proceeded to kiss me all over.
“When do you need to go?” he mumbled between kisses to my stomach and abdomen.
“Quarter to seven if I take a cab.”
He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, then took my nipple into his mouth. He sucked on it for a while, then switched to the other one.
He cupped my pecs and stared at them for a few heartbeats, squeezing a little so my nipples stuck out. They were way too big for my size. They grew huge when I chestfed Monty and never returned to normal.
Chase gazed at them with this fierce look on his face. He squeezed roughly, almost to the point of pain.
“I love your tits,” he said. “Gorgeous.”
“Suck them some more?”
He grinned and settled between my legs. Pinching one nipple and sucking on the other, he teased me and tortured me until I was squirming.
“Ready for a second round, Jay?”
“I want to ride you.”
He flopped onto his back and put his arms behind his head.
“All yours.”
God, that dick. It had a slight curve and a distinct ridge under the cockhead. And it was always so hard for me.
He gazed up at me as if I hung the moon and the stars when I rolled my hips with his beautiful cock deep inside me.
I brought myself to orgasm like that, on top, in charge of my pleasure, with him watching.
Then I climbed off him and got onto all fours.
“Destroy me, baby.”
The mattress dipped, and he was back.
It really was like riding a fucking rocket into space. He drilled into me, and my guts sang.
Five. That’s how many times he made me come in a row. I sobbed into the pillow, and Chase roared with his completion.
But then he bent over me and pressed tender kisses to my neck. He circled his hips, still hard, his harsh breaths warming my skin.
“I love fucking you,” he whispered. “This right here”—a slow fuck into the bruised mouth of my womb—“is my paradise, Jay.” Another rolling thrust. “My favorite place on earth.”
Chase said stuff like that as if it were nothing.
I was glad that what we had was only sex. That we’d made that clear from the start. Otherwise, he could have confused the shit out of me.
He did ask about my day, but after we were done fucking, which was strange. Why did it matter to him? He gazed at me with interest as I gave him my answer, as if it reallydidmatter.
“Can we do a sleepover on Saturday?” Chase asked as I was putting on my shoes, his tone light.
“A sleepover?”
“I’d like for you to stay the night. We can get up early, and I’ll make you breakfast for the road if you need to be home before Monty wakes up.”
The way he casually mentioned my son made me startle for some fucked-up reason.
