He slides his hand between us and rubs against my clit. Thrusting harder and harder, deeper than I thought possible, and my orgasm rolls through me like a current.
“Oh!” I’m coming, clutching his body, and this is even more intense than the first two.
First two. How lucky am I right now?
My entire body trembles against his as I dig my nails into his back and rake them along his skin.
“Do that again,” he demands urgently.
I repeat the action and he groans loudly, ramming into me and finding his release.
“Baby. Fuck!”
He twitches inside me and stills, relaxing his body against mine as we both slowly come down.
But I don’t want to come down. I like this high. No, I love this high. This high is incredible. Now I understand what appeals to sex addicts. I’m elated and completely spent. I could actually die now and be okay with it. And I would like my tombstone to read the following:
Mia Blaire Corelli
Beloved daughter and friend.
Death by Orgasm. With a capital “O”.
I had no intention of falling asleep.
I had planned on surprising Tessa after my amazing night with my stranger, explaining that I was too excited to wait until the next day to leave. But after five orgasms, five, a girl can only take so much before she passes out.
After taking a small break to catch our breaths, he took me from behind, bending me over the bed, and then he asked me to ride him. I was embarrassed about that at first.
Me? Take charge?
Then I took him in and realized how deep he was that way. So incredibly deep. I think that’s my favorite position now. Plus, it gave him unlimited access to my breasts, which he seemed to enjoy immensely. I believe his words were, “best tits I’ve ever seen.” I’m still glowing from that compliment.
And then, to top off the best experience of my life, he held me. Like it meant just as much to him as it meant to me. Which is where we are now.
His arm is draped across my waist and he’s breathing slow, steady breaths in my hair as I glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand. 10:14 a.m.
I can’t believe I slept over. At a stranger’s house. A complete stranger. Well, not complete. He’s the only man that knows my body the way no one else does. And sweet Jesus, does he know it.
Plus, it felt natural to cuddle up next to him and fall asleep on his chest. It was almost intimate, our experience. It was hot as hell but also sweet. He was gentle with each new position, constantly asking if I was okay before he took me to that depth of passion and fucking owning me. And I felt his affection deep within me, but pretended I didn’t. This wasn’t supposed to mean anything other than a hot fling.
His warm body was pressed up against mine the entire night, our legs a tangled mess under the covers. The intoxicating aroma of his scent filled my lungs, and it was slowly becoming the only air I wanted to breathe. Nothing had ever smelled that divine. Complete manly deliciousness. I wished I could keep him.
I slip out from underneath his arm and scramble around the bed, picking up my dress and panties. After dressing and using the bathroom, I step into my heels and grab my clutch.
“Hey.” His sexy morning voice grabs my attention as I’m about to sneak out of his room. “Come here, pretty girl.” He props one hand behind his head, holding his other out to me. He looks positively adorable in that just-woken-up way—his hair sticking out a bit and his eyes still sleepy.
I walk over to the bed and take his hand, bringing it up to my lips for a kiss.
He smiles, weakening my knees with his dimples. “That’s my move, isn’t it?”
“I gotta go.” I go to release his hand but he tightens his grip. “You’re trouble, you know that? I have places to be.”
His cell phone rings from the nightstand, forcing him to release my hand with a disapproving grunt. “Stay with me a little while longer. What’s the rush?” The phone continues to ring in his hand as he waits for my response.
“I can’t.” I lean down and brush my lips against his, the ringtone finally fading out. And then I start toward the door, which is an extremely difficult task. Every ounce of my being wants to stay with this man, if only just to talk to him.
“Wait, damn it. At least tell me your name.”
His phone starts ringing again, having been ignored the first time.
I silently contemplate his request, but decide against names. The old Mia would want a name. Not this new Mia that picked up a stranger in a bar and gave him her virginity. I’m a new woman and I’m doing things differently this summer.
I smile. “Thank you for last night. I’ll never forget you.”
I allow myself one last look before I slip out of his bedroom. His eyes are sad, pleading even, and I can’t keep looking or I’m going to crack. I turn and leave before I weaken even more.
And I know I’ll never forget him. He was amazing, and exactly what I wanted my first time to be like. A beautiful memory. That’s exactly what he’ll be.
Ben
“Jesus Christ. What?”
My voice gives away my mood, and I’m hoping this phone call is brief. I need to get some sleep. I barely got any last night, but that was well worth it. Really fucking worth it.
“Well good morning to you too,” my sister snaps. She’s my only sister, but she’s all over the place sometimes with her personality, that it feels like there’s twenty of her. “What are you doing right now? You busy?” Her voice softens, the snippiness gone and quickly replaced with the tone she uses when she wants something.
“I could’ve been if you wouldn’t have interrupted me.” I grab the pillow
