I chose to kiss him.
“Sink my cock into your pussy,” he ordered gruffly.
“But your ribs…” I protested.
“My ribs will still hurt when we’re done,” he replied gruffly. “Now ride my cock.”
I was going to argue. I was going to tell him no.
But when he read that on my face, he chose to do the work himself, pulling me down and pushing himself up, until he was once again at my entrance.
I was still just as wet as I’d been when we were outside, but this time, in a much more comfortable position, with good lighting.
“Easton…” I tried again.
But it was a moot point.
Seconds after his name left my lips, he filled me so full of him a scream left my lips.
The burning pain was awash with the pleasure of his cock taking me deep.
It was the most surreal feeling in the world, and I couldn’t tell whether I loved it or hated it.
But before I could think too much on it, he slowly started to swirl my hips, back and forth, back and forth.
I was doing a slow shimmy that started to make the tips of my nipples tingle, and the pit of my stomach start to warm in response.
“Easton…” I whispered, saying his name for an altogether different reason this time.
His hand in my hair tightened, and I found myself staring at the ceiling as his mouth started to press kisses down the length of my exposed throat.
“Next time,” he growled, “we’ll be completely naked, and I’ll have full access to your pussy.”
I shivered in delight. “Next time.”
“And if you ever wear a dress without underwear again…” calling me out.
I grinned. “To be honest, Easton.” I ran my hands over his chest as he continued to press kisses into me. “I took them off halfway through the night. Right before we rode home. They were digging into my flesh something fierce, and I hated the hell out of them.”
He pulled my head back down so I could stare into his eyes as he said, “And where are they?”
I bit my lip.
“Where are they, baby?” He pulled me up by my hips, then forced me back down again.
God, he was so big. So thick. I burned. But in a good way. A delicious, I’m going to be stretched for anyone but him, kind of way.
My entire body jolted with the move.
“They’re in your saddlebag,” I whispered against his lips. “Right next to the sex toy I bought while I was thinking about you.”
He growled low in his throat, then he started to fuck me in earnest.
Well, if you could count him using my body to fuck himself as ‘fucking me.’
Whatever you called it, he did it.
Thoroughly, and well.
I looked down at my hands. “I’m glad he went missing. I’m glad he’s not living that cushy life.”
He moved again so that he was leaning over the back of the couch staring directly at me.
“He’s not.”
With those words, I had my confirmation.
The question was… what should I do with them?