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A growling sound escaped him, rumbling against my clit, creating a new sensation altogether.
But then he was releasing me, and I was dropping back down on his lap as he reached for his wallet, then a condom.
“Ride me, baby,” he rumbled when he was done, his gaze on mine as I lifted up, then shifted into position, taking him in with a moan. “Fuck, you feel good,” he said as he leaned forward, his lips on my neck, kissing down as I started to ride him.
On a frustrated growl, unable to access more of me, his hands went down, grabbing the hem of my tee, and dragging it up and off my head, but not my arms, keeping them trapped to my sides as he pulled me forward, sucking my nipple into his mouth.
The pleasure was a white-hot heat from the contact and down where our bodies met, making me start to ride him faster, harder, so consumed with the pleasure that I didn’t care how loud I was moaning as I got closer and closer, then crashed down into an orgasm that had me crying out and folding forward, my face buried in his neck as it worked itself through my system.
“Not done with you yet,” he said as soon as the pulsations stopped.
Then he was moving, pushing me under him as he pressed me down onto the couch, his lips on mine, his cock still buried deep, but giving me time to recover before he started to move again.
Slow, as I started to build, then faster and harder, the sounds of our bodies getting drowned out by my moans, his groans, and the couch starting to slide against the floor.
“Fuck, yeah, come for me,” he growled as my walls tightened around him.
Then I did.
And he came with me, his cock slamming deep, his body tensing as he came.
He stayed there as we recovered, then slid away to go to the bathroom as I grabbed my panties and pants, but just lay there with them in my hand.
“You alright?” he asked, coming back and looking down at me.
“I don’t think my legs are working right,” I admitted, getting a rumbling laugh and cocky smile out of him.
I couldn’t fault him for it, either.
He’d earned it.
Pulling my clothes from my hands, he slid them onto my legs, then let me arch up to pull them the rest of the way.
“Yeah, you’re gonna need to lift ‘em if you want to sit,” I said as he looked down at my legs.
With another laugh, he did just that, settling them on his lap as he put a different movie on, since we’d lost the plot somewhere around the last time they were fucking.
Seth’s hands moved up and down my legs for a bit before they made the big, epic mistake of trying to grab a foot.
You know, to be a super amazing guy and give me a foot massage.
Not knowing, of course, that I went into full-on fight-or-flight mode when someone touched my feet.
The sound that escaped me was somewhere between a squeal and a shriek as my body flailed out, completely outside of my control.
Because if it had been in my control, there was no way my knee would have collided with his nose.
“Oh, God!” I hissed, folding up as his hands went to cup his nose, and I saw a bit of red dripping out. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry! Oh, God. What can I do?” I asked, hands touching his arms. “Let me see, at least,” I said, pulling until he relented and let his hands fall a bit. “Oh, shit. Okay. That’s… that’s a lot of blood. Fuck,” I said, trying to think. “Tissues. I need—“
“Mom?” Isaac’s voice called, making me turn, eyes huge, finding him halfway down the staircase. “I heard you yell,” he said, voice small, lip a little wobbly.
Because, yeah, me yelling… it meant bad things to him.
My poor boy.
One day, I hoped he wouldn’t correlate those things.
But this was not that day.
“Hey, bud! Hey, it’s okay,” I said, rushing over toward him, arms out. “I’m okay. It’s just that… well… Seth tried to touch my feet,” I told him.
“You can’t touch Mom’s feet,” Issac said, voice grave, as he looked at Seth, who was trying to hide the fact that he had a bloody nose from my kid.
“Figured that one out the hard way,” Seth admitted, voice muffled by his hands.
“I accidentally kneed him in the nose,” I explained to Isaac. “And he got a bloody nose. It was all a big accident. No one is upset,” I assured him, giving his shoulder a squeeze.
“Sure?” Isaac asked.
“Yeah, bud, all good,” Seth said. “Just a little life lesson. Don’t touch Mom’s feet,” he said.
“She’s really ticklish,” he confirmed with a serious little nod. “She can tickle herself.”
