Page 103 of Seeley


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“Does it feel like I’m hurting,” I asked as my hand moved out to start working her clit.

It wasn’t long for those pesky objections of hers to fall away.

I slid on a condom, then fisted my cock, waiting for her to lift up and slide down my length, her tight pussy pulling me in deep.

And, fuck, was it perfect.

Even more so when she let out a little moan as her gaze slid to me. And when she couldn’t take the aching need anymore and started to ride me.

Slow and careful at first, clearly still mindful of my healing wounds. But it wasn’t long before she was fucking me hard and fast, her whimpers becoming loud moans as she got closer and closer.

“Come for me,” I demanded, working her clit faster as she rode me.

Then she did, her pussy squeezing my cock hard, pulling me along with her.

She fell forward into me afterward, her face nestled in the crook of my neck.

“Not waking up alone is pretty awesome,” she admitted, pressing a little kiss into my neck.

“Yeah, I can get used to it,” I agreed, giving her ass a squeeze.

“Okay. You go get coffee,” she said. “I am going to get dressed and meet you down there.”

With that, she rolled off of me and made her way into the bathroom as I watched her ass jiggle as she went.

Taking a breath so deep my lungs hurt, I climbed out of bed, tossed on some pants and a tee, and made my way downstairs.

I barely made it halfway down the hall when I smelled the fresh coffee and something else entirely.

Food.

Eddie was cooking.

Waking up with Ama, morning sex, and some home-cooked food?

Yeah, it was shaping up to be the best day of my entire fucking life.

“Hey, man,” Eddie said, waving a spatula at me as I walked in. “Levee said you finally made up with your pretty doctor,” he told me. “That’s cool and all. And I’m happy for you. But just so you know, this in no way changes the fact that I plan to have a pajama pillow fight with her one day.”

“Noted,” I agreed.

“So, you look like a man in love,” Eddie said, nodding at me.

“I am. I’ve always been,” I added, grabbing two mugs. “The difference is now she loves me back.”

“Not to ruin your poetic moment, man, but that woman loved you already. Even when she didn’t know it.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But it’s different now. What are you making?” I asked.

“Post-coital crêpes,” he declared, making a snorting laugh escape me.

“What?”

“I know. Not normally the kind of shit you guys like around here. But post-coital eggs sounded gross. And post-coital pancakes didn’t work either. So we went with crêpes.”

“You know you could have just… made food without naming it after fucking.”

“Sure, yeah, but where’s the fun in that, right?” he asked. “Want to know what I’m calling the sausage links?” he asked, smirking.

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