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He couldn’t get deep enough. She was so wet, her pussy soaking him, grasping him like a motherfucker, ripping his breaths from his chest. He was supposed to be stringing this out. Making her wait for it until she couldn’t do more than beg.

Instead he was the one on the verge of begging.

Dropping his head to hers, he fought to claim her mouth. She was going wild against the pillows, thrashing back and forth, and with the position, he couldn’t get close enough. So he kept up the pace, her walls closing in on him, making it more difficult for him to pull out and sink home, again and again. She was so close, her body resenting his intrusion even as she craved it. She slapped at his upper arm, stinging his skin seconds before she scratched the back of his neck and dragged his mouth to hers.

Holding him there, sharing his oxygen as she finally, finally reached the peak—and she waited, her whole body strung tight for his, until he whispered that one word against her bitten-raw lips.

“Come.”

She arched beneath him, pressing her breasts into his chest as she came undone around him. She didn’t scream, didn’t make a single sound. Just rose up, her body bowing, shaking violently with her orgasm. Her pleasure spurred his own and he shouted out her name, the word burning his throat as he rocked into her again and again, burrowing so deep that he didn’t know how he’d begin to find his way clear of her. She swelled around him again, clasping him in her wet heat, giving him permission to stop fighting.

To just let go into the condom, pouring out his release as he groaned against her mouth, giving her his release that way too. Needing her to experience every second of it with him as he shook and spent himself inside her.

Cursing the goddamn rubber that kept him from her pussy all the while.

He wasn’t aware of slumping against her, or of curving his face into the crook of her neck. It was her gentle strokes on his hair that brought him back to himself.

Without opening his eyes, he drew in a deep breath. The room smelled of sex—heavy, heady, and oh so fucking dirty, and it made him want to fuck her all over again.

And he hadn’t even left her yet. Didn’t know if he could.

She drew her leg up the back of his, rubbing against his calf like a kitten imprinting him with her scent. Her nails scooped through his hair, leaving teasing little half moons in his scalp on every other pass.

“You’re getting hard again,” she murmured, amused.

Rather than answer, he bit her chin, and she laughed, jostling his cock almost out of her body. “Arm’s starting to hurt, big boy. Playtime’s over. Go rub it out in the shower if you must.”

“Why do I like you again?” He withdrew the rest of the way and groaned at the slap of cool air from the room’s AC.

It was a brutal world outside her pussy. Too bad he couldn’t just live there forever.

“Oh, and if I rub it out anywhere, it’s going to be in your mouth.”

“Pfft. We’ll see about that.”

Lightly, he smacked her slit and she jolted, making him grin. “Looks like I’m not the only one still revved up.”

“Yeah, but I gotta get back.” She sighed heavily and wiggled her arm. “Elle will wonder where I’ve gone. Also, I’m thirsty like a sonofabitch. I just lost, like, half the fluids in my body.”

He had to laugh as he bent over to root through the bag for the handcuff key. “Hmm, what would you say if I can’t find the key?”

“I’d say your ass better learn to drive a bus fast, pal.”

Still chuckling, he came up with it and freed her from the cuffs. Before she could escape, he gripped her wrist in both hands and quickly rubbed the circulation back into it. “Okay?”

“Fine. I’m fine.”

Then he moved back down her body and pulled out the wand of beads, slowly and carefully. She pressed her lips together, revealing nothing, but her chest rapidly rose and fell.

Not trusting she wouldn’t rabbit if he left her alone long enough to clean up after their playtime, he removed and disposed of the condom, then wrapped the beads in a tissue from the nightstand and set them aside. He climbed back into bed and made a come here gesture with his fingers, well aware she was looking anywhere but at him. She groused as he pulled her against him, but he drew her head onto his chest and she quieted.

Reluctantly, he was sure.

“I’m a cuddler after sex. Deal with it.” She grumbled against his skin, and he weaved his fingers through her long, tangled hair. “Guess I should clarify that. Apparently, I’m a cuddler when it comes to you. Never been similarly afflicted before.”

Her response was silence. Definite progress, compared to last time.

“So

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