I scream out something that sounds like a mishmash of his name and fuck and oh my God, but the sound is lost to the slapping of his hips against mine as he pounds into me.
"Touch yourself. I want those fingers on your clit. Mine are about to be busy somewhere else."
I do as he says because, duh, I like multiple orgasms, and the combination of pressure on my clit and Boone's cock inside me is a surefire way to achieve them. As soon as I move my hand, he presses against my ass with the pad of what I assume is his thumb, and my nerve endings go wild.
Pressure. Pressure. Pressure.
And then dark, dirty pleasure.
"Oh my God. Oh my God." My entire vocabulary has shrunk to this one phrase because I can't seem to recall any other words.
My cries grow louder as he begins to fuck my ass with his finger in time with his thrusts into my pussy.
Soon my whispers turn to keening wails and then screams. My inner muscles clench as I throw my head back and forth. The orgasm barrels down on me, smashing through every obstacle.
"Oh my God!"
Blood thunders in my ears as my entire body convulses. I fall forward, but Boone is relentless. He reaches around and slaps his hand over my clit as he continues to power inside, until I'm a sobbing, shaking mess.
He climaxes with a roar and finally stills.
"Sweet fucking Christ." He presses his lips to my shoulder blade. "You almost gave me a goddamned heart attack."
From the furious hammering against my rib cage, he's not the only one. "Likewise."
"Come on."
"What? No. I can't-"
Boone pulls out of me, no doubt with a mess, but he lifts me into his arms too quickly for me to do anything about it.
Without turning the lights on, he gets us to the shower and flips on the water with one hand. When the steam is billowing, he carries me inside and sets me on my feet. The water washes over me in warm streams, and I don't have to move a muscle because Boone washes my body with a soft cloth, taking care to make sure he doesn't miss an inch.
When he finishes, he speaks into the darkness. "This is happening, Ripley. You and me. I won't give you up."
I press both palms to his hard chest and allow myself to speak the truth. "I'm not ready to give you up either."
Boone whispers something that sounds like thank God, and cups my face before taking my lips.
18
Boone
I wake to an empty bed.
My first thought is Fuck, she bolted. I scared her off. I didn't go easy on her last night, physically or otherwise. But the sheets beside me aren't cold. They still hold the heat of Ripley's body. She hasn't gone far.
I remember the last time I woke up to an empty bed, and what happened next. I could handle a repeat of donuts and the kitchen table.
When I roll out from under the covers, my feet hit the floor and I cross to the dresser for a pair of shorts.
My first instinct is wrong, and I find the kitchen empty. Soft singing is coming from the living room, and it draws me forward. Ripley refills Esteban's food tray, but she turns and goes quiet when she hears me behind her.
"I'm guessing that bird's been getting one hell of a show for years now if you sing to him regularly," I say.
"Superstar," Esteban says, and Ripley laughs.
"For the record, he's talking about you, not me." She nods down at the shirt she's wearing, one of my T-shirts that fits her like a dress. "Hope you don't mind that I borrowed it."
"Sugar, you can borrow whatever you need. You don't have to ask." I glance at the clock. "You always get up at the crack of dawn, even after you've worked late?"
She nods. "It's a habit. I used to have to get up and make Pop breakfast, and then I'd go back to bed for a couple hours. I guess I just got into the routine, so now I make myself some breakfast and then sleep until noon. Well, sometimes, anyway."
The thought of how hard she worked for her old man without any thanks makes me want to kick his ass, but that's not going to help me erase the frown on her face.
"Then how about I make you some breakfast this morning, and we go back to bed and work it off."
I'm not sure what I expect from her, but the big grin I get is better than anything I could imagine.
"I think I'll take you up on that."
Two Denver omelets and a double side of bacon for each of us later, Ripley eyes me with new respect. "How did you learn to cook like that?"
"Ma wanted to make sure her sons could look after themselves in the kitchen. I'm pretty sure she didn't want us to fall for the first woman who could keep us fed, because she knows we've got big appetites."