Spent, his body covers mine, hot breath on the side of my neck. I curl into his warmth, my hands numb, but my eyes are heavy.
Once his breathing and heart rate return to normal, he lifts up. He climbs off me, and my eyes pop open.
Grabbing his sweatpants, he removes the key from his pocket, then unlocks the cuffs. He pulls my shirt over my head, then grabs my bra, which is twisted around me, and tosses it onto the floor.
He crawls back onto the bed, wrapping me in his arms and pulling me against him.
“Better rest up. I’m not through with you yet.”
My eyes pop open. “No?”
He shakes his head. “I’m keeping you in bed until Drew gets back home.”
I grin, shaking my head. “I’ll need to eat.”
“I’ll feed you.”
“And I’ll need water.”
“I’ll take care of you.” He pushes my sweaty hair away from my face. “You can use the bathroom. And I’ll help you shower.” His lips trail over my neck, and I giggle and squirm when he finds a ticklish spot.
“Help me shower, huh?”
He chuckles. “Uh-huh. I’ll take you in every position, then clean you up.” He sucks on my neck, and I moan.
“Then dirty you up again,” he whispers.
I grin. “You’re insatiable.”
“So are you.”
I laugh, my hand moving to his cock. “No arguments there.”
41
SEBASTIAN
I’m exhausted after three days of having sex with Ivy.
But it’s worth the two cups of coffee I had to drink before leaving the house.
Playing hooky from work yesterday to spend the day with her was the icing on the cake. I plan to do it again soon.
But duty calls, and I can’t stay in bed any longer.
Ivy makes coffee while I start preparing breakfast. She’s too stubborn to let me do it alone and immediately starts helping.
Drew walks into the house. I hear his footsteps as he follows the smell of coffee and food into the kitchen. He stops in the doorway, eyebrows shooting up. “The two of you are making breakfast?”
I scowl at him over my shoulder, immediately becoming defensive. He starts explaining before I get a word out.
“That’s great. I’ve just never seen…this.” His eyes dart around the room. “Psycho cat isn’t around, is he?”
“Hi, Drew. Welcome home.” Ivy shoots me an amused look before looking around the kitchen. “Don’t see him.” She shrugs. “Mr. Pickles was in here.”
Drew’s shoulders relax. “Thanks.” He heads to a chair and pulls it out. Ivy grabs a mug from the cupboard, pours coffee into it, and hands it to him.
“Was it an eventful trip?” I ask, a bemused expression on my face.
