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My eyes cracked open when I felt tapping on my naked hip. Lips caressed my neck, and I smiled.

“Are you asking for permission?”

“It’s rude not to knock before entering,” Hart answered, voice gravely and low, bringing my body to life. His dick was gloriously hard and imposing against my ass and was almost enough to make me come. I hooked my leg over his thigh, opening myself for him. He wasted no time.

My breath whooshed out of me as he guided himself inside me. My tongue darted out, moistening my lips when he bottomed out. I relaxed into his embrace as he sluggishly dragged his dick in and out of me.

I must’ve gotten too comfortable when he gripped my chin and tilted my head towards him for a kiss that went from soft pecks and whispered words that might as well have been gibberish to a vicious kiss that sent my head spinning.

His thrusts intensified with his rolling tongue, and he refused to let my chin go. His free hand snaked around and grabbed one of my breasts while he pounded into me. My breath hitched when he lifted the leg I had mine wrapped around in the air and kept fucking me.

Tears collected at the corner of my eyes as Hart proceeded to bust my pussy wide open without skipping a beat.

Why does this man fuck like this?!

Hart was fucking me so good that I hadn’t realized we changed positions. He rolled onto his back with his dick still inside and my back to his chest. His hot lips brushed against my cheek. I searched for them and was unsettled when he denied me. He grabbed my wrist and guided my fingers to my clit.

“We move together,” he whispered, hovering his fingers over mine. Euphoria washed over me as our fingers moved in tandem against my clit as he thrust into me. We started with generous, slow circles that eventually turned into frantic rubbing. “What have I told you about this stubborn pussy, Sugar? Give. It. To. Me,” he hissed between strokes.

I erupted, raining down on him and the sheets before collapsing against a sweaty wall of muscle. He pulled out and stroked himself a few times before a stream of cum jetted out of him onto my abdomen.

The sound of harsh panting filled the bedroom as Hart performed light aftercare by massaging my hips.

“Lift your leg.”

I complied, and he grabbed my ankle and lifted my leg over my head until my toes touched the headboard.

“That feels good,” I whispered, enjoying the stretch. He pulled my leg to the side for another gentle stretch before switching legs.

“What were you saying earlier?” I asked after he massaged my neck and shoulders.

He chuckled softly and eased me off his taut body. “I was apologizing for not having enough time to make your crepes.”

“Apology accepted,” I said, sighing as I reached for my phone. I squinted at the time and launched myself out of bed. Hart swore under his breath when he noticed the time.

“We gotta be out of here in 15 minutes.”

The following 15 minutes were pandemonium. We must’ve looked like a pair of clowns as we tripped and bumped into each other while rushing through a shower and the rest of our morning routine.

“Can I borrow a hoodie?” I asked, tugging on a spaghetti-strap bodysuit.

“Go for it. Is your bag good?” he asked, snatching a sweatshirt off a hanger and yanking it on.

“I didn’t grab my tennis shoes and socks.”

“I’ll grab them. You have your passport, right?”

“In my purse,” I confirmed, selecting an Obsydian Trip hoodie. He left the impressive walk-in his-and-hers closet while I took a few more moments to peruse his closet. “Can I take a hat?”

“I don’t care!”

I love me a man who’s not stingy with his clothes.

Five minutes later, we rode the elevator down to the parking garage. After adjusting the ball cap on my head, I glanced at Hart and did a double-take.

“Fix your face, Sweet Hart. You look like you want to jump me in this elevator.”