AllFreeNovel
Share Us
PEYTON
Rolling over,I curl into Micah’s side. Breathe in the scent of him; a faint hint of his cologne mixed with a scent distinct to Micah. Bask in his warmth and comfort, and snuggle his frame. He curls an arm around my waist, hugs me impossibly closer, and eliminates all space between us. Then he kisses the top of my head and I sigh and kiss his shoulder.
“Morning.” His raspy tone wakes up more than my mind.
Throwing a leg over his hips, I roll to straddle him and press my breasts into his chest. “Morning.”
Since Sunday evening, after hanging out at Autumn and Jonas’s place, I have spent every night in Micah’s bed. Woken up the next morning with our limbs twisted in new pretzel shapes. Been pummeled by or ridden on his dick after we say good morning. Dug my nails into his skin and bruised it with my lips.
And each morning after we come, I want him again. In the shower. On the couch or kitchen counter or dining table. Against the glass wall facing the backyard. Out back on the veranda. Wherever I can have him. His head between my legs or me on my knees in front of him or both our mouths on each other.
Micah Reed makes me insatiable. A wanton creature. For him, and only him.
How many times per day is considered abnormal? Is too much sex unhealthy? I would think not, but I am no sex therapist. All I know is I have never felt so damn good in my life.
I bury my nails in his pecs. Mark my ownership of him next to the previous marks, now fading. Rock my hips harder as he holds on to them and jerks up into me over and over. The delicious rhythm drives me higher and higher. I tip my head back, hair tickling my tailbone as I close my eyes and gasp at the ceiling. He rams into me as I slam down on him.
Familiar, delicious heat builds low in my abdomen. Spirals up, up, up until it hits between my breasts and disperses like wildfire. Fire crawls up my chest, my neck, my face. My eyes roll back in my head. Panted high-pitch whimpers and throaty grunts ricochet off the walls. The animalistic scent of sex drifts through the air. My body starts to constrict Micah’s cock. He clamps down on my nipples—hard—and tugs with a twist.
I sink my nails deeper and shatter around him. My body exhausted yet eager for more. He flips me on my back and pistons hard and fast. The headboard smacks the wall as skin slaps skin. He bruises my thighs with his fingers. Slides a hand up my abdomen, my breast and stops at my throat. His thumb, third and fourth fingers clamp down, making me dizzy and euphoric.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
Stars fill my vision, my breaths come in short bursts, and my body constricts his once more. Micah growls into my neck, crushes my pelvis with his, and releases inside me.
His arms buckle and he gives me his full weight. And I welcome it. Wrap my legs around his waist and arms around his chest. Bear-hug him to my chest and breathe in the scent of our sweat and orgasms. Trace my fingers up his spine and over his scalp.
“Never want to wake up without you,” he mumbles into the crook of my neck.
I freeze at his words. Not because they frighten me or make me want to bolt. Quite the opposite, actually. A lightness I have never experienced with anyone slips into my bloodstream. Consumes me. Fashions a new energy in the chambers of my heart and pumps it through my veins. Warms me in ways I never thought possible.
My limbs relax and I comb my fingers through his hair. “Me either.”
He kisses up my neck, sucks the sensitive spot beneath my ear, then kisses his way to my lips. “C’mon.” He pushes up and scoots off the bed. “Let’s shower, then eat.” Standing at the foot of the bed, he grabs my ankles and yanks me down. Me and the bedding plummet to the floor and I erupt in a fit of laughter.
When I gain control, I sit eye level with his cock. His not-so-soft cock. I lift my gaze to his and lick my lips.
“Hellcat…” he says in warning. “Shower.” I push out my lower lip and aim for my saddest puppy eyes. He growls. “Now.” He offers his hand and I take it.
“Fine,” I say on a huff, then stomp off to the bathroom.
Little does he know, I have tricks up my invisible sleeve.
By the time we step out of the shower, our skin is wrinkly and legs wobbly. But damn, do I feel like a queen. Micah definitely makes a great devotee and king.
We move around the kitchen like an old married couple. He whips up eggs, sausage, home fries, and toast while I cut fruit and brew coffee. His task seems more daunting, but it works for us. In no time, we plate up food and sit at the bar to eat.
We push food around our plate more than eat it. Forks scraping the ceramic, occasional chewing, and coffee slurps are the only sounds in the room. Breakfast came out perfect… we just don’t have the oomph to enjoy it.
Today is day five. Five treacherous, unbearable days have passed.
And although I haven’t seen him on his phone this morning, Micah has probably checked his email several times. Which means nothing has arrived yet. If it had, whatever the result, I would be the first to know—after him, of course.
We finish breakfast in amicable silence, then plop down on the couch and watch a movie until it is time to dress for work. Arms wrapped around each other, we cuddle on the couch and do our best to not pick at our nails or tap our fingers with unreleased nervous energy.
But every now and then, Micah’s knee bounces or his breathing picks up. He tries to not let it show, but I notice. I just keep it to myself.
The movie ends and we amble to the bedroom to dress for work. We move slower than usual, but it isn’t long before we head for the door. Since I have stayed with Micah the past few nights, we decide to take one car to work on the days we both go in. Why waste the gas?
