“Ryot, God, you feel so good. You always make me feel so good.” I move my hand around the front of her and slide it between her legs, where I play with her clit. She moans even louder and thrusts her hips up, offering me a different angle, an angle so deep that I don’t think there is an end. “Yes, oh fuck me, Ryot. Take me.”
I grunt as I pulse harder and harder, both of our orgasms building, both of us moaning and twisting and pulsing, reaching for that impossible feeling until she convulses around me, tightening to the point that everything around me goes black. She’s the first to erupt, her body writhing with euphoria. And then I follow right behind, everything tightening as I come inside her.
Our moans mix and our heartbeats slow together until we’re completely listless on the bed. I collapse to the side of her, my arm draping over her back while her chest heaves, looking for any air she can suck in.
After a few minutes, she says, “Ryot?”
“Hmm?” I ask, my head buried in the sheets.
“I want to do that again.”
I chuckle and murmur, “Give me a second, baby.”
She twists and turns toward me. She loops her leg around mine and pulls me in close. When I look in her direction, she grips my cheek and pulls me into a kiss. Shock registers before my mouth melts into hers, and I kiss her back, our tongues tangling, the heat of our bodies colliding.
I don’t know what the fuck is happening, but I’m not going to say a damn thing. I’m going to take everything she will give me.
Every goddamn thing.
The sun beats down on me while I feel the weight of another human on my body. I rub my palm against my eye and slowly open them to find Myla sleeping on top of my chest. Her cheek is pressed against my right pec, her body lined up with mine, her cute-as-shit butt fully exposed.
A warm, comforting feeling fills me as I slowly run my fingers up and down her spine. This is heaven.
This right here.
My girl in my arms.
Fully satisfied after a night of sex with my favorite person. With my love.
And now, as I lie here, her on top of me, I start to wonder how long this is going to last, what this will bring. What will she say? Will she regret it?
We were clearly both drunk last night, and that’s the main reason we crossed that line, but now what?
Should I even ask?
So many questions pass through my mind as panic sears my chest. I don’t want to lose this feeling. I don’t want her to wake up and regret everything that happened. Because I don’t regret it. Not one second.
My fear is that she’ll wake up, realize what we did, and ask me to just ignore it, to chalk it up to a drunk night, and we go back to being practical strangers again.
I’m not sure my heart could take that.
She starts to stir. Her arms clutch me, and then I hear a light groan as she picks her head up to look me in the eyes. Her hair has fallen over her forehead, so I push it behind her ear, and when her eyes connect with mine, I hold my breath, waiting for her to pull away, waiting for her to freak out.
But instead, the warmest smile passes over her lips before she drops back down on my chest and kisses my skin.
A wave of butterflies erupts in my stomach as I continue to drag my fingers up and down her back.
“Mmm,” she murmurs. “Can I stay here all day?”
You can stay there forever for all I care.
“Whatever you want,” I say. “I can order breakfast if you want and have it brought up here. Or if that’s too clingy and pathetic, I can take a shower and get out of your hair.”
Her laughter rumbles against my chest, and she kisses my pec and then laps at my nipple. I grow hard beneath her. And that fucking knowing look that passes over her beautiful face drives me nuts as she slides down my body and between my legs.
“Or I can just . . . play with you for a bit.” And before I can answer, she lowers her mouth over my erection and rolls her tongue around the top.
“Baby . . .” I say softly. “You . . . aw fuck, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know,” she says as she kisses down my length and to my balls. She laps at them with her tongue and spreads my legs farther before taking my balls gently in her mouth.
“Hell,” I whisper as I shut my eyes.
And that’s how I start my morning, with my girl sucking my cock, only for me to turn her around and return the favor to her clit.
“Go ahead, say it.” Myla wiggles her eyebrows, causing me to laugh.
I lean back on the headboard and let out a deep sigh. “Fine. Waffles are by far a superior breakfast meal.”
“Over any protein bar or protein shake?”
“Yes, waffles beat out any sort of protein-enriched breakfast.”
She smiles, satisfied, and then picks up my fork and feeds me the last bite of my waffle. “Does this mean you’re going to ditch the protein bars?”
If it means I get to keep you, then yes.
“I think it means I’ll be opening up my variety of breakfast meals.”
“And people say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” She gathers our plates and carries them to the cart that was wheeled in. My eyes don’t stray from her, or the way she looks in my Bobbies shirt, or her mussed-up hair from where I dug my fingers through it, or the evident beard burn on her legs.
It reminds me of what life used to be like.
So carefree.
Makes me yearn for her even more.
I rest my hands on my lap and say, “So . . . did you get a grade on your paper yet?”
She pauses and glances over her shoulder. Her look of shock should be cute, but it’s just a reminder that I’ve neglected this part of her life.
“Uh, no, that’s going to take a few weeks.”
“Ah, well, what was it about?”
Now her brow creases as she stands tall and faces me. I can see her wanting to respond with a sarcastic comment since it’s in her nature. Probably something along the lines of “why would you care?” But she surprises me as she makes her way back to the bed and takes a seat on her knees.
“It was a design for a lobby of a major office building. The idea was to turn an old lobby from the eighties and make it modern while reusing the building materials so there wasn’t much waste. I was given a concrete-style lobby that didn’t have much to work with, so I decided to use stains and paint to update the space, divide it into sections, and then with the minimal budget that I did have, I added a slat board front to the lobby desk that was twelve feet long, stained it black, and added as many plants as I could to bring nature into the concrete jungle. And they had a bunch of old computers lying around, so I had those taken apart and then mounted on the wall to give this blast-from-the-past feel of where technology originated. The computer was my favorite because upcycling those made the space feel modern but also authentic to its original glory.”
I sit there . . . stunned.
Absolutely fucking stunned.
I knew she was good and that she had an eye for design. I knew that from what she did with our house in Chicago, but this . . . this feels like next level.
“That sounds fucking amazing, Myla. Do you have any pictures?”
Her cheeks redden as she says, “I actually have my computer with me if you want to see.”