“Ville.” His name was a whine. His dark chuckle vibrated against my skin and a spurt of precum escaped the end of my dick. I sucked in a breath. “I don’t…I can’t….”
“You can,” he demanded and nibbled on my earlobe. “You will.”
He went harder, which I didn’t think was possible, and suddenly I was at the edge. I started chanting his name, with a few “fucks” thrown in, and Ville kept the angle exactly perfect. Then he reached down, grabbed my leg, and hiked it up just a bit. All at once, I was screaming as I came, painting the blanket.
Ville shoved in hard, took hold of my chin, yanked my face to the side, and kissed me. It was messy and awkward, but it seemed to be exactly what he needed, because he groaned into my mouth as he filled my ass. All I could do was lay there and pant against his lips, my body twitching with aftershocks and an overload of sensation.
It took us a while to come back to earth. When we did, when we could breathe again, Ville kissed my cheek, then my neck, and eased oh so carefully from my hole.
“Did I hurt you?” He murmured, I felt his fingers there, spreading my ass cheeks, and realized he was checking for physical damage.
“Only in the best possible way,” I assured him, but my voice sounded a little slurred. I tipped my head so I could watch him. I liked the smug smirk he wore.
“That work?” he asked, pointing to the sink in the corner. I nodded.
Ville found yet another blanket, one that wasn’t too thick or dirty, and carried it to the sink. He turned the handle and it took a few seconds for the water to start, sputtering out with a ton of air first. Then he waited longer for the water to run clear before he soaked one corner of the blanket.
He wiped his own dick first, then righted his clothes before he rinsed the blanket again and brought it over to me. I started to push up while I reached out a hand, but Ville just shook his head and placed a gentle hand on my back. I rested my cheek on the palette again and let him clean me up.
He was very thorough and very careful, then used a different corner to pat me dry. “You’re a bit red and puffy.”
“That’s because you owned me.”
Ville’s smirk grew but when he lifted his gaze, his eyes held a hint of worry. “You sure you’re good?”
“So good,” I assured him, finally pushing upright. Ville allowed it, then turned to pick up my discarded pants and shook them out. Then he did the sweetest thing and crouched down, holding them so I could step into them. He kissed my dick before he settled the waistband into place and I bent to kiss the top of his head.
When he straightened to his full height, I wrapped my arms around him, tucking my head under his chin.
“We’re definitely doing this again, sugar.”
Ville barked out a laugh, pushed his fingers in my hair, and used the hold to tilt my head up. “We’ll see if I allow it.”
A shiver skated down my spine, and I grinned. “Yes. Sir.”
I headed back into the house with a hitch in my step and a smile on my face. I was going to sneak right up the stairs to clean up better and change, but I caught sight of my mom leaning on the island and my doctor brain activated.
“Mom!” I rushed over and helped her to stand up, gaze roving over her face. She was pale and diaphoretic, her breath coming in short pants. I watched as she swallowed hard and immediately set my fingers on her wrist. Her pulse was way too fast and irregular. I didn’t like it at all.
“I’m fine,” she insisted through clenched teeth.
“Any chest pain?” I asked, striving for my calm doctor’s voice. My brain had latched onto one thing, which I’d seen a lot of when I’d done my ED rotation. I searched my brain for the differences in presentation by gender and added, “Or nausea?”
“It’s just indigestion,” she said, giving me a strained smile. A few seconds later, her expression eased and she repeated, “I’m fine.”
“You aren’t. I’m calling an ambulance and—”
“No, you are not.” She glared at me and it was strange, because I knew what I was seeing and I was excellent in a crisis, but still I froze because my mother gave me an order. “Your brother and his girlfriend will be here any minute, and I have lasagna ready to go in the oven.”
I took a breath and helped guide her to a nearby chair. She tried to fight me but not that hard. When she sat, she let out a little breath. Her breathing was easier, but I didn’t like this atall. But I knew my mom, so I didn’t demand. Instead, I crouched down beside her so I could look into her face.
“I think you’re having an MI.”
Jennifer Harrington had the nerve to “pfft” at me. “I am not. I am in perfect health. My last physical was outstanding.”
I nodded. “I’m sure it was. But right now, your symptoms and your demeanor tell me otherwise. Mom, please, just let me—”
“No. I have too much to do.”
