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Lynn
Iwake up to the feeling of Devon’s large cock twitching at my opening, and I hum contentedly, my hand lazily caressing the strong forearm wrapped around my midsection. We fell asleep nearing dawn, completely worn out, his erection still firmly planted inside my core, but he must have slipped out of me at some point. His soft, steady breath tickles my ear.
He is still sleeping soundly —not that I could blame him. We spent the entire day and night in bed, fucking each other’s brains out.
I can’t believe he is hard after all of that. The man has stamina. Lucky me!
I did not even know my body could come that many times in a row. I smile to myself.
My stomach starts to grumble in protest.
We did order some takeout yesterday around eleven, but most of it was left untouched on the table as Devon fucked me aggressively near it while we attempted to eat.
I smile again, feeling strangely smug about the whole thing.
Something like this has never happened to me.
When I asked him whether it was the norm for him to have this much sex, to my surprise, he blushed adorably to the tips of his ears and mumbled something I nearly missed.
It took me some time and effort to coax him to open up about it, but I had to give it at least a try. After all,the talkis not something a mature person can really avoid when having unprotected sex with someone.
He finally confessed that it had been quite some time for him, that he had never felt the need to be with a woman without a condom before, and that he had anyway been recently tested as part of his routine check-up.
I was still embarrassed to say to him that my last sexual partner had been someone I dated in college almost six years ago, and so he had nothing to worry about in that respect.
His face had broken into a smile, showing off his perfectly white teeth in two arrogant rows.
At first, I was slightly offended by his attitude on the matter.
How could he be glad that I had been so alone for so long?
But then he finally told me thatquite some timewas actually five years for him. Since the day he met me, no other woman had mattered to him any longer.
After hearing those words, I began to understand how he could possibly feel happy about my loneliness because while the thought of having tortured him for years was sad, it also made me feel somewhat elated.
I slide out from under his muscular leg and his one-armed embrace and get out of bed, careful not to wake him. I wince a bit, feeling a tad sore between my legs.
I put on the white shirt he had donned the night of the party, the last piece of clothing to have touched his glorious body in the last thirty-six hours, and I grin like a fool when bringing the collar up to my nose I catch a whiff of his cologne mixed with the unique manly scent of his skin.
I walk through the spacious open-plan apartment, looking around at the priceless but understated decor.
I had never been here before two days ago, and what I see is certainly not what I expected for someone as rich and proud of it as I thought Devon was.
It is clear to me that I don’t know him very much, and I have judged him way too much in all the years we have known each other.
I wonder where my smartphone could be. I haven't heard a peep from it. Wherever it is, the battery must be long dead.
Devon’s iPhone —normally constantly glued to his hand— has been surprisingly absent from our little interlude, and I can’t help but feel a little proud, not to mention a whole lot astonished, that a billionaire CEO as busy as he is with his company, could so easily forget about the entire world when with me.
I take a look out of the large, wraparound windows that run along all the walls of the flat, and I gather from the amount of light reflected by the sea of glass and steel of the tall buildings of the city that it’s still morning. Ten or eleven, perhaps, considering I don’t feel like we slept that many hours.
I reach his functional stainless steel kitchen and busy myself with breakfast.
As I cook, rational thoughts start to pop up here and there in between the hot, sexy flashbacks of last night, and I push them away, afraid of what they could bring out of me. As it is, I already feel more than a pang of discomfort in my present situation.
My heart and body are completely attuned to Devon, his feelings, and his wishes, so much so that they forced my brain to comply with them and agree to give this, whatever this is, a chance, but I can’t help but feel doubtful about the whole thing.
How do you adjust to caring so much about someone you hated —or at least someone youbelievedyou hated— for so long?
