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“The best kind.” I rolled us over so she was on top. I picked up her hips, changing the rhythm. Her head rolled forward as if she could no longer hold her body up, hands slipping on the slickness of my sweated shoulders to brace on the hard wood floor. Her knees rocked and I slid my hands up her sides to hold her up by palming her breasts.
“Whit…” Lia closed her eyes on a full body shudder. She rocked her head back exposing the long graceful line of her throat. I wanted to bite her, mark her. It was primal and territorial, something new for me. Her eyelids fluttered down and her mouth opened on a low moan. She clenched around me, nails clawing my shoulders, and I lost myself letting everything go as I shot cum inside her. There was something animalistic about filling her up as she hugged me tighter to her and our chests resumed normal heartbeats.
I’d never felt this kind of connection to another woman before and it was strangely satisfying basking in the afterglow. I didn’t want to push her away, nor was I as eager to leave. It was a shame the outside civilized world waited for us.
9
Lia
Is this what having your mind blown meant? This floaty, disconnected feeling that left you numb and buzzed at the same time? Could I say this was the best sex ever? Was that allowed after one night? Not that I was a total ho like my roommate and not that I had a lot of sex per say, only one other fumble, but who’s counting? There’s always room for improvement, right?
Whittaker Jones rocked my world so hard I wasn’t sure I was up for better any time soon. Now I understood what women meant when they said they were floating on cloud nine and smiling from ear to ear with the sordid acts of sex leaving their bodies blissful and sore. Heck, if there was better, my mind would be permanently blown, my thighs chaffed and my legs adopting a new wobble. How did one recover from such things?
Writing my philosophy paper on what joy means to me would be easy-peasy this week. Heck, I’d turn the assignment in early. My mind emptied all the external noise and my body fluttered vibrating with renewed energy. I’d say my stomach quivered with butterflies, but it was more like large condors having a dance party, that’s what this man did to me.
It begged to answer the question of why was I ever attracted to Ryder West in the first place. The concept was beyond me. That boy could talk football all day long without taking a breath and I’d still be sitting on the sideline without a clue. We had absolutely nothing in common except for my insistence that we could have made beautiful babies a decade from now when he retired from pro-football and we all knew that wasn’t a sound basis for wanting to hook up with a guy who probably couldn’t even spell philosophy. My dad warned me about shifty guys like him, but then I’d been woefully unprepared for the wicked dirty talking boy scout.
A fingertip trailed a lazy stroke down my arm bringing me back to the present moment. I looked over my shoulder to find my sexy forest ranger with disheveled hair and an easy grin staring at me. Now this one, he could make pretty babies all on his own. At the least, he deserved to be on a calendar, all twelve months.
“Don’t you look all satisfied.” Whit smirked kissing me, a gentle tug rolled us over on the cold hard floor of the cabin. My bones ached and muscles stung from overuse, wrung out from the night before. It was a wonderful penance to pay and my inner ho petitioned for an easy-pass for, well, easy access.
I lay over his bare chest, my breasts pressed against his while he supported my weight. My fingers found his hair and I played with the unruly strands. “I’m pretty sure you’re just as satisfied.”
He tapped my ass with the palm of his hand. “No complaints, pretty girl.”
Our sighs commingled content in the early morning rapture unwilling to break the spell. The fire was nothing but glowing embers under gray ash and puffs of smoke in the chilled cabin. Whit had his body wrapped around mine like a bear. A shirtless, mostly hairless, big ass bear whose thickly corded muscled limbs entwined with my own. I wanted to shout, “Hey Boo-Boo,” like he was my own Yogi Bear and make a picnic of his body.
Summer sausage, anyone?
Yes, please.
I bit back a giggle covering my mouth snort. Happily trapped underneath him, I wiggled closer as sunlight inched over the window sill. Muscles twinge and for now, filled with blissfully few regrets. Morning came too quickly and with it the reminders of how I got here to begin with. I tried to fall back asleep, but it was impossible now and I was too cold without the fire and my clothes.
Dinah and Ryder would be together by now, the hot new item across campus by Monday morning. Mateo would be all too eager to tell me about it and how they made out comforting each other like spider-monkeys while I was missing in the woods. Connor, poor sweet idiot, would probably ask me if I saw any bears out here. Only one, and he was currently rubbing his toes up my calf and nudging his knee between my legs.
“Are you awake yet?” There was the morning gruffness to his voice that sounded like it had gone unused for a long time instead of mere hours.
“No. I must be dreaming. I want to go back to sleep,” I yawned too big for my mouth as the words muffled together.
He cleared his throat and his hands slipped down, holding my waist tight, flush against him. My backside grazed his thick proud cock rubbing between my cheeks. “All right, then it won’t matter what I do next. You just go right back to sleep.” He flipped me over, completely caging his body over mine, his legs spreading mine wide to rut against me in slow strokes that brought the head of his penis bumping against my backdoor.
Sleepy sex was dirty sex.
Rolling my eyes, I checked over my shoulder to see a wicked grin change his face. “Not even in my dream
s.” I moved against him, teasing, and he groaned. The sound vibrated against my back making us both laugh.
“Too soon?” He joked.
“It was never on the table, Ranger Jones.” I quipped into his slightly disappointed face. I wasn’t sure anything was off the table with this man, but I didn’t know him that well, and with the prospects of a fresh shower looking slim I preferred to pretend that part of me didn’t exist right now.
“Hmm, too bad.” Heat between my legs shot up my overall body temperature and I let my head fall between my elbows, which propped my body off the floor. The cage of Whit around me kept me warm and his hard long member pierced me slowly, stretching skin and sore tender tissue wider.
“Oh!” I couldn’t keep the sound under wraps when he executed multiple shallow strokes designed to graze the button inside me hurtling me off into multiple orgasm land.
“Does it feel good, Lia? Do you want me slow down or speed up? I could do this for a really long time, as long as you want me to.” He tortured me, robbing speech from my lips as I struggled to maintain oxygen to my brain. Remorse filled me that I said I only wanted one night of this, but I knew more time with Whit would emotionally slay me when he realized he didn’t want me anymore.
“Faster, Whit. Fuck me faster,” I begged him, chucking my regret away. My breasts swung with the stroke, nipples pebbled, and the jerk simply slowed down, biting my shoulder rough enough to leave a mark.
