Page 65 of Big Dill

“I mean that night at the hotel…” I start, but she interrupts.

“Neither of us were in our right minds.”

“Which made it seem like it was good, right?” I supply, voice low, rough, sliding a finger gently along her inner thigh. “But this…me inside you again…when we walk away…”

“It’ll prove I’d feel more satisfaction coming up one number short of winning millions in the Atlantic Lottery,” she says, a soft laugh escaping her lips, breathless and playful.

I chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead, letting my thumb trail over her temple. “Yeah. Exactly.”

I pause, scanning her face, letting the warmth and trust in her eyes settle over me. After everything she’s been through, seeing her open and soft like this does the craziest things to my insides.

I lean down, lips hovering near hers, breath mingling, and whisper, “Are you prepared to be horrifically underwhelmed?”

Her blue eyes meet mine, half-lidded with desire, glinting with mischief. “Yes,” she breathes, voice soft, eager.

Condom in place, I move over her, my mouth near hers, our lips a breath away as I position myself at her opening. Her lids flutter as I offer her an inch. Her tight muscles quiver around me, as I dip my head and run my mouth along her throat. I take my time, draw this out, because I have no doubt this won’t—can’t—be happening again. Will we both get our fill, one and done?

Christ, I can only hope so.

She moves her body, tries to lift but I hold her down. She moans when I tip my hips forward, giving her inch after inch, until my crown hits her cervix.

“Brody,” she whispers, her voice needy, breathless.

I pull almost all the way out and slide in again, her slickness covering my cock, as the world disappears around me.

“Jesus,” I mutter, and begin to pump faster. Her legs wrap around me, her fingers racing through my hair as her body heats.

Pleasure gathers, my body tightens and I change the pace and the rhythm needing to feel her release before I give into my own. She gasps, pants and when I angle my body, slide my hand between us, and lightly touch her clit. It tips her over the edge.

“God, Brody,” she cries out and I watch pleasure spread across her face as she lets go. I love that look, love knowing I’m the one who put it there. Goddammit, I want to put it there every day. Why again, can’t I?

Her muscles tighten around me, and all thoughts evaporate. Moisture breaks out on my skin as I pound into her, wringing out her pleasure. Soon enough her pulses slow, and I pick up the pace again.

“Yes,” she encourages, knowing each thrust, each deep pump is for me now. “That’s it, Brody.”

I piston into her, angle my body for deeper thrusts. Her nails scratch down my back, and while I want this to last all night, I can’t hold on any longer. I let go inside her body, my release spilling from me. White hot pleasure grips me as I go still, her muscles quivering around me as I deplete myself. I breathe heavily and press my forehead to hers. As she too gasps, her soft breath falls over me, sending a quiver through my body.

Sex with Jami is…off the fucking charts.

I stay over her for a long moment, her muscles clenching, milking every last drop. After a long moment, I shift to the side and find a blanket, pulling it over us. We stay close, and she turns to me, a satisfied smile on her face. I grab her leg, pulling it over me.

As night closes around us, a laugh fills the room. I turn to her, brush her hair from her face.

“Something funny?” I ask,

“I was just thinking.” She looks around the dimly lit room and I do the same. “You do know I’m never going to look at this room the same ever again.”

“Same.” I sigh. “Nothing but bad memories.” I pull her closer, nuzzle her neck and I breathe her in, the scent of me now on her skin and I like that too damn much.

“Horrible ones. Nightmares, actually.” She glances around at the piles of clothes, broken lamp and strewn blankets. “It’s like a circus went on a rampage in here.”

“Circus?

“Maybe I have circus on the brain because of the soundtrack you picked. It was like a bunch of screaming goats.”

“I mean goat yoga is a thing, isn’t it?”

She grins. “What we did…not yoga. It was…”