AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He gives a low groan of approval and switches nipples, fingers moving. My breath hitches in my throat as his thumb brushes over the right spot.
He hears that, too, fingers returning without mercy to the swollen nub. Taking it between two knuckles and rubbing until I have to hold on to his shoulders for support. He presses his lips against my neck and whispers how hard he is for me, how good I feel, how much he longs to be inside of me.
I break apart with an ease I didn’t know I could, cheeks flushing with the force of my orgasm.
Anthony kisses me and knots a hand in my wet hair. Reaches for a pillow and props it up beneath my hips, hands spreading my inner thighs, looking down at me.
He doesn’t say a thing, but it’s there in his touch, the reverence.
I’ve never felt more wanted.
I reach between my legs and grasp his erection again. Pull him forward, pressed against me.
“Condom,” he says.
I hadn’t even thought of that. And I always think about that. “Do you have one?”
Anthony nods and reaches for his bedside drawer. The crackle of foil follows and we both watch as he rolls it on in a smooth motion. Nerves and a throbbing ache mingle inside of me, watching as he presses my legs apart with his knees and reaches down to guide himself inside.
I sigh with pleasure at the first entry. It’s like I’m welcoming him home, and as I wrap my legs around his hips and run my hands over his broad back, I realize it’s never felt like that with anyone before.
Anthony braces himself above me, burying himself to the hilt with a groan.
I clasp his face between my hands and kiss him as he starts to move. Tears blur behind my eyes with the force of it all, my own pleasure heightening my emotions.
Anthony drives an arm beneath my neck and bends his head to my collarbone. Wet, salty hair falls against my cheek, but his breath is hot.
I hold him as his body surges with power, his hips speeding up. One of his arms locks beneath my knee and pulls my leg up, the fit growing deeper. The new angle sends waves of pleasure through my body with each quick thrust, until I’m hovering at the edge. It’s Anthony’s own pleasure that sends me over it. He loses control as he crests, thrusts growing erratic.
He groans against my neck with the force of his release and I grip him tightly through my own, my world beginning and ending with us, as close as two people can be.
18
Summer
“The round knob is for the plate cabinet,” Anthony says, voice dry. “The triangle is for the glass cabinet.”
I open both and take in the neatly organized plate-ware. Small beads are attached to the wooden cabinet dividers. I run my fingers along them. Two beads for water glasses. Three for bowls. Four for plates.
“Did they give you instructions for this?”
“There’s a manual somewhere. I can’t remember where I put it.” He takes another bite of the omelet on his plate. “Come eat your breakfast, Summer.”
“This is interesting.”
“It’s fucking depressing.”
I don’t let that stop me, though, not as I open the fridge. It had struck me as supremely well-organized before. Drawers with large labels and plastic bins. Now I see it for what it is.
A support system.
“You already took out the orange juice,” he comments.
“That’s right.” I close it and sit down beside him at the kitchen counter, my bare legs against the leather seat. I fold up the shirtsleeves of his button-down and cut into my own omelet.
“We have one day left here,” he says, reaching for his orange juice.
“When is your driver coming to pick us up?”
