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Rudy sits up to kneel between my spread legs, tearing the wrapper open with practiced ease. His eyes flick to mine. “Don’t worry, Lily. I only put it in there a few days ago.” A faint blush sweeps over his cheeks. “The night of the gala.”
“So sure you’d score, huh?” I curl an arm behind my head. “That’s a bit presumptuous of you.”
“I’m a man who likes to hope for the best,” he responds, and I watch as he rolls the latex over his shaft. It’s erotic, watching him do this. Watching him touch himself, knowing that he’ll be inside me in mere moments.
But Rudy doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. Turning his attention to his shirt, he takes his time to open the last of the buttons, then lets the shirt slide off his broad shoulders.
His body is magnificent. I’d feel self-conscious if he wasn’t looking at me like he felt the same way about me. One of his palms slides over my thigh, gently spreading it wider. It continues over my hip, his thumb brushing my stomach before reaching up for my breast.
I’m like any other woman. I’ve had insecurities about my body, my stomach, the extra softness in parts of me that aren’t as thin as they were in my twenties. I’m extra insecure about all the ways my body is about to change in the not-too-distant future. But when Rudy touches me, he lets out a rough noise that tells me he likes those parts of me. I watch his other hand wrap around his cock, and he guides himself inside me.
For a few beautiful moments, we say nothing. His eyes move from between my legs to meet my gaze, and I feel a sizzling connection form itself between us. He moves over me, his elbows near my shoulders, and I tilt my hips to accept more of him.
My breath catches.
Slowly, inexorably, Rudy pushes inside me until he’s seated between my knees, bottoming out inside me. His lips brush over my neck, my jaw, my cheek. “You okay?” His voice is harsh, as if he’s holding himself back with every ounce of control.
I wiggle my hips a bit, smiling at the noise it elicits from him. “I’m good,” I answer. “Really good.”
It doesn’t take long for me to come once more. A few deep thrusts from Rudy, and I’m already on the edge. A dirty word or two whispered in my ear, a rough palm gripping my body so hard it feels like he can’t help himself. The hardness of his muscles beneath my palms. The way he sits up and lifts my legs onto his shoulders to get just that little bit deeper inside me. And when he angles his body so he can reach between us to touch me just the way I like, I explode.
When he stiffens on top of me and his movements get jerky, I wonder if it’s the feeling of my own orgasm that sends him over the edge. The thought of him enjoying my pleasure that much makes another wave of ecstasy wash over me, and I wrap my arms and legs around him to keep him close.
Panting, we collapse in a heap on the bed, and I open my eyes to stare at the ceiling. My arms are wrapped around his shoulders, hands pulling him close.
“Mm,” he says, face buried in the crook of my neck. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t last. I’ll hold out next time.”
I laugh. “I didn’t exactly hold out very long either.”
He tilts his head and kisses my neck, and for the first time in a long, long while, I feel totally at peace.
We order takeout for dinner and have sex three more times. I fall asleep sometime around one o’clock in the morning, wrapped up in Rudy’s arms, wishing we’d said twenty-four hours instead of twelve.
CHAPTER 19
Rudy
I left Lily in bed this morning, then ducked out to grab the fixings for breakfast. When I got back, she was still snoring lightly, the bedsheet crumpled around her waist and her dark hair splayed over the pillows.
I could get used to sights like that.
Instead, I got to work making bacon and eggs. It’s when I pull bacon out from under the broiler that I hear footsteps behind me.
“Morning,” I say, putting the baking sheet on a trivet. “I made coffee if you want some.” I nod to the gurgling coffee machine in the corner of the kitchen.
Lily has a silky bathrobe wrapped around her body. It’s light pink with fluffy white clouds dotted all over it. Her dark brows tug together as she takes in the kitchen, then she puts a hand to her stomach.
“Oh no,” she mumbles, then shuffle-sprints toward the bathroom.
“Lily? Hey!” I follow, but only fast enough for the bathroom door to slam in my face. From the other side, I hear the lovely sounds of her throwing up into the toilet. Leaning against the frame with my forehead on the door, I wait a few moments before rapping my knuckles on the door. “Lily? You okay?”
The toilet flushes and the sink starts running for a second. Then, I hear an electric toothbrush whirring. I wait by the door until the sounds stop.
When she finally opens it, Lily looks…well, she looks like she just puked.
Curling my arm around her shoulders, I pull her close. “You feel sick?”
She nods, head buried against my chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sure the bacon’s delicious.”
