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Lifting up to hover above her, satisfaction surges through me as I take in the total bliss overtaking her face. She sighs in content when I kiss her.
I chuckle as she keeps her eyes closed, a smile still kissing her lips.
She claps her hands twice and I laugh as the lights of her bedroom shut off. I push off the bed, stumbling through the dark into her bathroom.
I find a small basket full of washcloths and get one wet, taking it out to her. I use the light coming off the screen of her phone to clean her off before dropping onto the bed next to her.
As soon as I get under the blanket, she rolls over, cuddling into my outstretched arm.
I’m not used to sleeping with anyone next to me. Even before going away, I wasn’t one to stick around long enough. But the feel of Lilah’s soft, naked skin pressed against mine is fucking perfectly intoxicating.
Her soft snores fill the air only seconds later. I chuckle, settling further into the bed.
I fall asleep that night with pure contentment settled low in my soul. I knew waiting for her was the right fucking choice.
Sure, I could’ve fucked any woman at my coming home party, and there have been more than enough willing women at the clubhouse each night. But not one of them have a damn thing to offer me in comparison to her.
seven
Lilah
Holy shitI don’t feel good. Nausea rolls through my stomach as I sit up in bed.
I stumble out of bed and practically crawl to the bathroom. I make it just in time to spill the contents of my stomach into the toilet.
I spend the next few minutes leaning heavily against the sink, brushing my teeth in an attempt to remove the awful taste of vomit.
I study myself in the mirror. My lips feel bruised, and reddish purple hickeys dot my chest. I don’t even attempt to deal with the knotted mess that is my hair. I take the rats nest and throw it into a bun on the top of my head
Memories of what can only be considered the best fucking night of my life filter through my mind as more vomit threatens to expel from my stomach.
I don’t even know how many times I was awoken by Ringer assaulting my body in the most delicious way possible. I even recall waking up a few times and initiating it myself. The memory makes me painfully aware of how sore my lady bits are from the amount of fucking we did.
He wasn’t lying when he said he had years to make up for. What felt like years of pent up aggravation on my end was most definitely satisfied in just the first few rounds.
As I’m brushing my tongue, nausea rolls through my belly once again, and I drop to my knees.
Each time I heave into the toilet, every muscle in my body spasms as a reminder of how physical we got.
Ugh.Kill me now.
I crawl over to the tub, pouring epsom salt on the bottom and flipping the faucet over to the hottest it will go.
It takes every bit of strength I have left to step into the tub and settle myself down. Thank God I decided on the large soaking tub when building my apartment. On the rare occasions I decide to overindulge, the baths really help.
That’s where Ringer finds me a short while later. I growl at him and close my eyes, refusing to look at his morning wood. “You can keep that fucking thing far the hell away from me.”
His chuckle has me splashing water over the side of the tub, wetting his side. “You feeling alright?” he asks, his sexy voice still groggy with sleep.
“I’ve been better.”
Opening my eyes, I watch as he bends over and pulls his boxers back on. “Thank you.”
“For?” he asks with a smirk.
“For covering that monster. I don’t think my pussy will ever recover.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Princess.”
