"Very busy day," I answered and held the note up for his amused gaze. "It looks like someone else was busy too. And thoughtful, I might add."
He shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. The muscles bulged, and I swallowed a groan. "What can I say? My cock is generous. And considering I'm having a hard time recalling when he found the time to send those to you, I'd say he's pretty fucking smart too."
I grinned. "Well, he definitely has great taste in flowers." I leaned forward, sniffing the sweet aroma of roses. "You know, I almost feel compelled to thank him."
Thatch leaned forward against the counter, stretching his arms wide and making the veins of his forearms stand out, and I could practically feel my breasts swell. "Almost?"
"Yeah. Almost." I set the note down beside the vase and turned to give him my full attention.
He smirked. "Honey, my dick sent you two dozen roses. I think you can go ahead and take out the almost and just leave it as you feeling compelled."
I moved toward him, into his space until he leaned back and made room for me to stand between his legs. "Today was a really good day."
He smiled.
"Do you want to hear about my day, Thatcher?" I asked as I ran an index finger down one of his arms.
He stared down at me with an intrigued smirk. "Tell me all about it."
"I'm surprised I got anything done. I was very distracted by thoughts of you." I stood on my tiptoes and softly pressed my lips to his. "Did you know I like to write?"
"No, honey, I didn't know that." He gripped my hips with both hands. "What do you write?"
I skimmed my mouth across his lips and then his jaw, and I savored the sound of his soft intake of breath. "Have you ever heard of Fifty Shades of Grey?" I asked as I pressed soft yet biting kisses down his neck.
"The BDSM books with all of the spanking and hot sex? Yeah, I've heard of them."
"I like to write stories based on those books. And today, I wrote a little scene with you in mind. You want me to tell you about it?" I asked coyly, gazing up into his warm eyes.
His hands slid up my T-shirt until his fingers were resting beneath the swell of my breasts. "If by telling, you mean showing … " He leaned down and took my mouth in a soft, seductive kiss. "Tell me all fucking about it," he whispered, his breath warm against my lips.
I kissed him once more and then bit his bottom lip, tugging gently before finally pulling away. "Meet me in the bedroom." I turned around and headed for the hallway.
"Do I need to bring anything?"
"Just your cock," I called over my shoulder.
He didn't waste any time. Thatch was hot on my heels and removing my clothes before I could say otherwise. Within seconds, we were both gloriously naked, standing beside his bed, and kissing the hell out of each other.
He grabbed my ass and lifted me up with ease until my legs were wrapped around his waist. "Show me what you were fantasizing about today, honey," he groaned against my mouth as he laid us on the bed. His cock was hard and ready between my thighs and pressing against the oh-so-perfect place. "Fuck, I can't wait to bury myself inside you."
I gripped his hair and tugged his lips away from mine. "Beg me for it," I demanded. "Say, ‘let me feel your perfect pussy.'"
He smirked down at me as he thrust forward, sliding teasingly across where I was already wet and throbbing for him. "Is that what you want, baby? My dirty mouth?"
I nodded. God, yes. Dirty talk me, you sexy giant. His body spanned the space of two regular men. He didn't have two dicks, but he sure knew how to use the one.
"Please, let me feel this perfect fucking pussy wrapped around my cock."
"Mistress Cassie Grey," I added.
One of his brows quirked up, confused.
"Say it, Thatchastasia."
"Thatch-astasia?" He sat back on his heels and stared down at me. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
I grinned. "I'm showing you, remember?"
"Let me get this straight." He ran a hand through his hair. "You wrote yourself as the male dominant, and I'm the female submissive?"
"It's the only way it would work, Thatchastasia."
"Excuse me?"
"You're way more submissive than I am, baby," I explained.
He started to shake his head, but I kept talking. "And speaking of the whole submissive thing, you're not very good at it right now. You should be saying Mistress Cassie Grey every time you address me." I patted his knee. "But don't worry, we'll work up to it."
He stared at me for a minute before an amused smirk raised the corner of his mouth. "You planning on spanking me, Mistress Cassie Grey?"
"Only if you're bad."
He waggled his brows and grabbed my ankle with one of his large hands. "Oh, believe me, I'm going to be all kinds of bad, honey." His lips started a slow and heated path from my ankle to my inner thigh. "I'm going to blow your mind."
"You're a terrible submissive," I said through a soft moan. "I should spank the shit out of you for topping from the bottom and not addressing me properly."
"Spank me later. Right now, I have to put my mouth on you." His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me wide for his heated gaze. "You gonna come right on my tongue?"
Well, shit, I didn't have to think twice about that. "Fuck, yes," I moaned as my head fell back on the pillows.
His mouth was on me before I could take my next breath. With tiny, insistent strokes, his tongue thrummed against my clit as his lips applied the perfect amount of suction. I clenched the sheets in my fists, and my thighs shook in anticipation.
"You taste so fucking good," he whispered against my aching skin sloppily, still eating me as he spoke.
I gripped his hair as my hips started to move against his mouth of their own accord.
"You're so close. Your pussy's already trying to trap my tongue." He slid his hands up my body, past my hips, until they reached my panting chest. "These fucking tits are going to be the death of me someday," he groaned as he gripped my breasts and brushed his thumbs across my nipples.
God, the man had some serious skills. I was convinced his tongue had graduated with an Ivy League doctorate in oral. Within seconds, thanks to a perfect swirl and two quick flicks of my clit, I was screaming his name through a mind-blowing orgasm. I expected the fog to last, but I wanted him too badly. Each roll of pleasure only drove me to want more.
"Now, Thatch," I panted as he rolled a condom down his length. "Please, fuck me now," I begged.
"I don't think either of us are born submissives, baby. But your sweet voice begging me to fuck you sure makes me think you could be." He smirked down at me as he kneeled between my thighs.
Before I could offer a snappy retort, he gripped my thighs and pushed inside me, hard and so deliciously deep. "Holy. Shit."
He groaned. "I'm never leaving this pussy." He increased his rhythm, driving into me with wild and uninhibited movements. "I'm just going to eat, fuck, and sleep inside this perfect cunt for the rest of my life."
"Yes. Let's do that," I agreed on a whimper. "Just fuck me all the time."
He wrapped his arms around me and flipped us around so he was lying on his back and I was straddling his thighs. "Ride me, Cassie," he demanded as he sat up to grab my breasts and suck a hard nipple into his mouth. "Let me see those gorgeous tits bounce."
God. Following his command, I noticed each jolt from the weight of my breasts as though they were connected by a live wire to my pussy. I knew he was watching them, and the unbelievably sexy feeling I got from it was overwhelming.
I didn't stop riding the Jolly Green Giant's cock until I was shouting through another perfect orgasm. The climax was so strong I felt like it had wrung me out from the inside and left my body limp and sated as I laid my head against his chest.
Holy hell. I just need a minute to catch my breath.
Yeah, just a minute.
Just one …
How did that saying go?
Fall asleep in the middle of sex once, shame on you. Fall asleep in the middle of sex twice, shame on me. What would happen on the third time? Cassie needed to see a doctor?
Fuck. I was positive if I had to experience her falling asleep on my dick for a third time, I'd end up permanently bowlegged and my balls would shrivel up inside my body.
I'd at least partially understood the first bout of coitus interruptus since I'd been shocked to the point of off my game, but this go 'round, I'd been highly engaged in some of my best moves. And still, her orgasmic bliss was the end of my own. Out like a light, she'd started to snore into my already damp skin, slick with her drool.
I probably needed to skip to the third scenario and find a doctor who made sleep-sex house calls. Maybe Dr. Savannah Cummings is available. Yeah, no. Definitely not a good idea.