The headboard smacks into the wall, rattling the bottles on her nightstand. On my next thrust, several items roll and tumble off the edge of the table. The unmistakable crash of glass shattering follows.
“Shit,” I mutter, not stopping.
Keegan hooks her ankles tighter against my ass. “Hazards of rough sex.”
“I broke your shit.”
“You’re gonna bust a lot more than that before we’re through.” Spots dance in my vision when she swivels her hips.
“Fuck, you’re hot.”
She grabs a fistful of my hair, giving the strands a solid yank. “Finish the job, bad boy.”
A shudder twitches my muscles, but I don’t pause the smooth stride. I push harder and find a faster gear, delivering a shot of pure ecstasy. Keegan whimpers when I hit a certain spot, and she latches onto me tighter. A ripple of molten lava surges through me, curling at the base of my spine. The tingles intensify and spread. A dizzying rush shortly follows. “You close?” I grit.
Her head thrashes against the pillow. “Uh-huh, yes. So close. Keep going.”
Keegan tilts her hips, and I drive in with brutal force. I’m pumping forward with abandon, lost to the motions that will take us higher. An eruption of quakes begins in her limbs, squeezing me until I see stars. I lose all composure, my movements becoming irregular and disjointed. Her core clamps around me, and I lose the battle. My climax hits with a roar.
A ripple of fire blazes across my back. Blistering heat has never been pleasant until this moment. Just as the flames threaten to incinerate me, all that I am fades to black. Inky nothingness steals my sight, sending me into a state of numb bliss.
I surface from the abyss with a moan. “Fuck, I might be broken.”
Keegan slaps my ass and I jolt, still buried inside of her. “I’ll give you ten minutes to recover.”
A rare chuckle scrapes out of me. “I only need five.”
Healing Hug #11: Pairs well with a good, long cry.
I wake with a gasp, my eyelids refusing to open more than a crack. Every muscle screams at me to stay still and I’m groggy enough to listen. With a slow blink, the fuzzy edges of sleep attempt to drag me back under. That promise of serene unawareness is more than tempting. But there’s a prodding somewhere deep down that demands attention.
While gathering my bearings, the events from last night flood into me faster than my sluggish brain can comprehend. I take a deep breath and focus on the essentials. I’m in my bed, very much naked, with a man snoring beside me. My eyes pop wide open as that last fact solidifies.
Crawford is still here. He slept over. We had sex. So. Much. Sex.
My rolodex of blush-worthy fantasies is a scoop of plain vanilla in comparison. Never in my craziest, most erotic dreams did I imagine getting that…freaky. A fiery blush attacks my face just recalling how creative we got. Sweat and musk cling to every fiber in this room. If these walls could talk, I would have to move. He brings out this…kinky side of me. I’ve never been a biter, but taking a chunk out of him was a huge turn on. Same with licking, pinching, spanking…the sordid list seems endless in the light of dawn, and gets my body thrumming all over again.
There’s a dull ache between my thighs, proving I didn’t conjure up all those filthy positions. I’m deliciously sore in all the best places. Each twinge and cramp are a badge of honor. Patches of tender skin speckle the expanse of my chest, torso, and lower belly. The polka dot pattern is almost a brand, evidence left behind from my lover’s stubble as he had his very thorough way with me. Crawford didn’t miss an opportunity to explore his conquest. That word stings, even after I’ve had time to let it simmer and sink in. All I am is a quick roll in the sack. But that’s all I expected from him. I can’t be upset.
Crawford and I had agreed on one night only. We sure as hell made the evening count. His insatiable need matched mine with the type of natural flow that envy breeds on. The memories currently playing on repeat will keep me company once he leaves. There’s enough material to keep me satisfied for the drought that’s sure to follow. I wasn’t joking about him wrecking me. That confession wasn’t a flippant fib carelessly spewed while in the throes of passion.
I’ve always been a tame, albeit open-minded, sexual partner. The man snoozing next to me has altered that in a permanent manner. He makes me feel like the sexiest woman in existence, and that knowledge is crazy powerful to my self-esteem. I’m usually far more resistant to showing off all my dents and jiggle. Since Millie was born, I prefer under the covers with the lights off sex. Stripping naked in front of a practical stranger is a no-go. But Crawford didn’t give me a chance to be self-conscious. The way his eyes hooded while roaming over my body was a serious boost to my bruised ego. After that, I bloomed under his undivided attention and released all of my reservations. I took advantage of what he offered without a single ounce of guilt.
The rising sun attempts to streak in through the curtains, urging me to get a move on. I turn to glance at the clock, a sigh slouching my shoulders. It’s barely eight. Alice made me promise not to pick up Millie until at least eleven. They’re taking her out for breakfast to get blueberry pancakes with sprinkles. My stomach lets a loud rumble loose at the thought of breakfast.
A yawn fit for a lion has me whipping around. The bedframe groans from my erratic motions. It’s a shock the antique wood is still holding strong. Crawford rouses with a stretch, showing off slabs of chiseled muscle and temptation. The sheet tents
