I lay back hard as our bodies slowed, our hips still connected, and I rocked her against me, savoring the feeling for a minute longer as we tried to catch our breaths unsuccessfully. My abs were on fire. So was the rest of me.
After a moment, she sighed and lifted herself off of me before stretching out with her back to the door, looking sated, smiling at me.
I ran my clean thumb across her bottom lip. “How come this never comes off?”
“I use a special lipstick that doesn’t smudge if I think I might have a dick in my mouth.”
I laughed. “Prepared for anything.”
“A girl’s gotta be.”
I kissed her nose. “Be right back.”
I climbed off the bed and made my way to her bathroom, unable to keep the smile off my face. It was the third time we’d gone bareback, having had the whole birth control/clean conversation after she practically begged me to fuck her bare. It’d been years since she had sex without a condom, and though I never asked, I wondered how it was possible that she hadn’t been with anyone long enough to get to this point.
The thought made me feel like a king and a caretaker. It was a gift I had no intention of squandering. It showed her trust, told me she was letting me into more than her body.
I cleaned myself up and grabbed a washcloth for her, running it under the warm water before heading back to her bedroom. But I stopped mid stride at the sight of her.
She lay curled on her side with her back to me, purple hair spilling over the bed in waves, her head on her bicep as she toyed with her hair. My eyes followed the curve of her tattooed waist and hips, coming to rest at the center of her. My gaze hung on the silvery rivulets that streamed out of her, what I’d left inside her.
I was instantly ready to fuck her again. Needed to fuck her again. Wanted to fill her up with me, every part of me.
My eyes were still locked between her legs as I approached the bed and sat next to her, folding the washcloth before running it up the length of her, cleaning her tenderly, both hands fully occupied.
I never did anything halfway.
She sighed and rolled over onto her back, the chains flowing around her breasts and the curves of her stomach and hips, and I shifted until her legs were open and slung over my thighs. I kept cleaning, and she smiled up at me.
“Tell me your news,” she said, her voice a little rough.
“We got a pitch meeting for the game.” I was smiling, grinning even.
Penny popped up onto her elbows. “Oh my God! Bodie, that’s … that’s amazing! When?”
“Two weeks,” I said as I went back to work on her pussy, which was as clean as it was going to get. I just didn’t want to stop touching it. “There’s a lot to do, so I might be busy until it’s finished.”
She frowned a little at that, spreading her legs wider. “Well, just don’t forget about me.”
I laughed. “That’s funny, Pen.”
Her frown disappeared, turning into a smile as she watched my hands. “God, I’m so happy for you. You gave up everything to follow your dreams. I’d never be brave enough to take a risk like that. It’s impressive. You impress me.”
“The feeling is entirely mutual, believe me.”
She smiled, lying back with a sigh. “Tell me more about the game.”
“Well, there’s a madame of a pleasure ship, Gemma.”
“Oh, I love this already.”
I smirked. “She’s a smuggler, and so are her girls.”
“Naturally.”
“Then there’s Nate— he’s the airship pirate and a smuggler too. They go on this treasure hunt together and have to team up — he has the map, and she has the key. Of course, the bad guy is after them with an army of goons called Ravens. Basically, they wear these leather masks they wear with beaks and top hats.”
“Ugh, that is so cool,” she said as I ran the cloth over her piercing softly. “I want to draw all the things — airships and girls in leather with knives and pistols and chakrams. What color is her hair?”
“Fire-engine red.”
“A woman after my own heart.”
I smiled. “So, how was the dress fitting?”
“Good. Everything was perfect, and we went home with dresses. Ramona cried, which made me and Ronnie cry. I blame the champagne though.”
I chuckled and ran the cloth over her.
“So, I wanted to ask you something,” she started, seeming nervous.
I kept my eyes on my task, hoping it would give her room to say what she needed to say. “Ask away.”
“Well,” she flexed her thighs, bringing her hips closer to me, “Ramona put me down for a plus-one, but I don’t have a plus-one.”
I tossed the washcloth toward her closet where her hamper was, trying not to smile. “Oh?” My focus was on my hands as I rested them on either side of her hood and ran my thumbs up and down the line of her center, soaking them.