He encouraged her with dirty, charged words, and it took next to no time before she buckled again, shaking all over as Ryan groaned into her neck.
“Fuck, you’re choking my dick. I can’t... I can’t hold on. Let me come, goddess.”
He didn’t need to be told twice when she whispered, “Come for me, Ryan. Come in me,” Lisa found herself flat on her back, her leg flung over his shoulder, and she was fucked within an inch of her existence.
Strategic thrusts led to his detonation, and she’d never seen a sexier sight with the pleasure overtaking him, his voice so hoarse.
When they calmed down, however much later, they curled their limbs around each other, and they stayed that way for a long time.
Until he lifted his eyes, smirking, he tapped a kiss to her chin, to her nose, to her lips.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much. Never go away again.”
“I won’t,” she promised, tears pricking the back of her eyes. Emotion came thick and fast as she buried her face into his chest, just holding onto this wonderful man who’d welcomed her back as if she’d never gone away. How lucky she was!
And she would not make the mistake of walking away again.
In fact, Lisa decided there and then that she would hold on to Ryan Gold with an iron fist, tying herself to him in whatever way she could.
Losing him a second time would be her finish.
Proving how good he was for her, he dried up her emotions when he ran a possessive hand down to squeeze her ass cheek and rolled them over, with his dick still inside her.
“I don’t know about you, but I can go again,” he smirked filthily.
Lisa laughed. God save her from the ardor of a Gen Z male.
But you know what?
She proved her millennial cells could keep up with her young stud over the next few hours.
And it was approaching dawn before she got a wink of sleep, with Ryan curled around her back, his hand cupping her breast.
Their lovemaking was better than ever, like they’d never missed a step.
TWENTY-FIVE
Splice
Had his well-used dick killed his woman? Logically, Splice knew that wasn’t possible. And Lisa was still breathing; he’d checked on her several times, passed out in his bed.
But it was almost midday, and his energetic sex all night long had worn her out. He couldn’t wipe the smug smile off his face.
If he were a peacock, he’d be flapping all his fucking feathers right now and doing some happy squawking. Christ, he’d never had a more perfect night with a woman before.
As Splice was fitting a coffee pod into the machine, he heard movement from the top floor of his house.
Smiling, he wondered how brave his shy woman would be today.
Last night, she sure as hell was his goddess, wielding his body for her own use until he thought his dick might need resuscitation. Even as spent as his dick was, Splice still felt a rumbling of lust when, some twenty minutes later, his wet-haired woman came down the stairs. His house was open-plan, and he could see the stairs from his position in the kitchen as he griddled bacon and fried eggs.
He smiled, watching her walk toward him.
She was his, wasn’t she?
Finally, he had his woman all to himself.
And nothing was going to tear her away from him again.
