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His fingers dig into my thighs and his eyes close as his muscles tense through his orgasm.
I squeeze my eyes shut while my release rushes through me, too. My toes curl and my pussy pulses around him.
It takes us a little while to recover. I’m spent and my eyes are still closed when he pulls out of me and moves off the bed after lowering my legs to the mattress. I try to pull myself from my fog, but I’m well and truly fucked and too exhausted to move. It’s not until Luke comes back to the bed that I manage to squint an eye open.
He repositions me on the bed so my head is on the pillow. Lying next to me, he says, “Let the record show that I fucking love your A-game.”
I open both eyes and roll onto my side to face him. He’s on his back and lifts his arm so I can snuggle against his shoulder. “That was some good sex, dude. I’m not sure my legs will be able to walk again today.”
“You don’t have to go home.”
The sound of the front door closing interrupts us, and a second later, a text message hits both our phones.
Paris: I’m home. Just letting you know in case you’re banging. I’ve got Sean now so as you were.
I laugh as I drop my phone onto the bed. “I love that chick.”
He rolls me so he’s on top of me. “I love her timing.” He dips his face to kiss me. “We can fit another few rounds in before I have to go to work.”
I squeeze my legs together.
“Are you trying to exhaust me completely?”
His eyes flash heat again. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
Well, I do have a sex drought to make up for.
Two hours later, I wander out to the kitchen, freshly showered and thoroughly worn out. Paris grins when she sees me. “Looking good, Callie. I’m jealous.”
I groan as I slide onto the stool at the breakfast bar. “I think I need about a week to recover.”
Luke joins us as I say this. He goes to the fridge to grab the juice out and eyes me. “We clearly need to have sex more often.”
“Or maybe you need to tell that dick of yours to settle the hell down,” I mutter.
He smirks. “I heard no complaining earlier.”
“Ugh. That’s because my vagina doesn’t know her limits.”
“Guys, I’m standing right here,” Paris interjects.
Luke drinks some juice and places his glass down. “I’m fairly sure your vagina has no limits, sweetheart.”
“I’m outta here,” Paris mutters and I reach out to stop her.
“No, we’ll stop talking about my vagina. Sorry.”
Her phone sounds with a text, but she ignores it. “Sean’s watching TV if you wanna spend some time with him before you go to work,” she says to Luke.
He nods as another text comes in. She ignores that one, too. When it sounds again, Luke says, “You gonna check that?”
Paris shakes her head. “No.”
He frowns. “Why?”
“Because.”
He cocks his head. “Because why, Paris?”
