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I’d given myself plenty of orgasms, but I’d always had control over every single one of them. It was so completely different when the pressure and speed, the angle, and intensity was not something I could expect. Vaughn controlled all of me in that span of time, and I couldn’t get enough of it.
My climax consumed me on a transcendental plane I didn’t even know existed. I cried out, unable to do much else but sit there and take it as he drove my body to new extreme heights with each thrust, his cock flexing and wedging deeper, rubbing mercilessly against my g-spot.
By the time I came down, I was shaking uncontrollably. My breaths were uneven and erratic, and the entire world just felt...different. Transformed.
I realized I’d never experienced a good, quality orgasm before.
Looking up at Vaughn for help to deal with this earth-shattering phenomenon, I shook my head, not sure what to do now. I just wanted to come again. And again.
He moaned out a sound of agony and tugged me off the chair. Our bodies struggled to remain connected as he set me on the floor. Then he plunged deeper inside me.
Surprised he hadn’t finished yet, when I’d felt the earth freaking move, I gasped and wrapped my legs around his waist, holding on for dear life as he pumped his hips with a fury.
Then he kissed me, and our tongues merged while our hands gripped the other’s hair. Losing all rhythm and finesse, he groaned and then jackknifed deep. Finding his release, he buried his face in my neck and held himself inside me, clutching my ass to keep me right where he needed me most.
His big body trembled on top of mine, and I hugged him close, petting his hair as he came down from his high.
Finally, he exhaled a deep breath and then sniffed my hair before kissing my temple. Voice trembling, he said, “Lucy?”
He sounded as lost as I’d felt moments ago when I’d realized I was no longer my own person. Stroking his hair to guide him through the change with me, I murmured, “Yeah?”
Releasing a breath, he pushed up onto his arms and looked down at me, his brown eyes seeking. Then he said, “We’re doing that again.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Okay,” I answered, bobbing my head obediently.
Groaning, he crawled to a stand, his knees wobbling as he did, and he found his balance just before his jeans slipped the rest of the way down his legs and pooled around his ankles.
Kicking them off and across the floor, he held out his hand to me right before he ordered, “Right now.”
Trapped under his spell, I took his fingers, and he tugged me up, off the carpet, then led me toward the daybed on the other side of the room.
32
LUCY OLIVIA
I woke to my phone dinging with an incoming text the next morning.
With a groan, I flung my arm out and blindly patted around my nightstand, searching for it. I didn’t even bother to open my eyes until I found it and was drawing it to me to read the screen.
When the bed shifted next to me, I nearly jumped out of my skin, already having forgotten that I had company.
Shit. Last night. Vaughn. Drunk decisions. Best sex of my life.
Oh Lord, I had no idea how all of that was going to transfer to the light of day. The sober light of day.
Holding my breath, I turned my head and glanced over.
He had the sheets tucked up under his armpits so a bare golden, toned shoulder was on display with his hand pillowing his cheek as he slept on his side, facing me.
God, those shoulders. I remember licking them at one point late in the night, running my fingertips over them, and even clutching them for dear life when I’d climbed onto his lap for a long, slow ride.
I really, really liked those shoulders. And that gorgeous face. Plus his talented hands and—
Eyelids flickering, he started to wake before he smacked his lips, wincing at a headache, no doubt, and finally, he opened his eyes.
“Morning,” I said, my voice rusted from sleep. I watched him carefully, beyond worried about how this was going to play out.
“Morning,” he hoarsely replied. His brown eyes were unfocused as he tried to capture full consciousness. “What time is it?”
