When I feel the urge to come, I slow down. I’ve been doing this for over an hour, and now, Diem can hardly stay up on her knees. My legs hurt. My throat burns with dehydration. The scent of sex and tequila that seeps through my pores fills the room.
My shins are bruised from the constant banging against the bed frame. My arms ache from pulling her back to me time after time when I fuck her so hard her body slides forward. And every time I bring her back, her ass slaps against me and she moans. I roar. And the sound vibrates the windows in my bedroom.
“You’re killing me,” she pants, but her next words are “give me more.” So I do. I have. I will. Until I can’t go any longer. I could fuck her all day and all night, but my balls are stretched to the point of pain. They ache with every slap against her tiny swollen clit. And when I finally do come, it’s the greatest release I’ve ever felt. She’s the greatest thing I’ve ever felt. Her response to me is overwhelming. The way she shudders, sweats, moans, and comes is a new experience for me. And it’s fucking epic.
I still inside her, leaning over her back and kissing a trail down her spine. I rain tender kisses all over her neck, shoulders, back, and ass until I’m too exhausted to stand. Then I collapse in the bed beside her. She is frozen in position, unable to move her limbs that still quiver. “You okay?”
“I think I’m dead.”
I smirk. “You’re not dead.”
“I can’t move. I’m numb.”
Wrapping my arm under her stomach, I pull her to me, curling her into my side. Burying my face in her hair, I inhale the flowery scent of her hair products. Liking the scent of her skin better, I move my nose to her neck, which is slick with sweat. Watermelon. Much better.
“I think we’re spooning.” I want to vomit at my admission, but instead find myself pulling her closer.
“I think you’re right. How lame does that make us?” Her breathing growing deeper by the moment.
“Who the fuck cares?” I grumble, feeling sleep taking over my body. She mumbles something, but I’m already too lost in the darkness to comprehend.
13
“GET THE YELLOW one.”
“I don’t like yellow.”
“Well, I do. So, get the yellow one.”
I fight the urge to choke Diem in the middle of the department store that I’m sure I’ll be damned to hell for even entering. There is no doubt in my mind that somewhere in the Sinner’s Creed bylaws, there is a rule that forbids us to go shopping for comforters at any store. But especially this ritzy fucking one Diem dragged me to. All because she said my covers were outdated.
They’re covers.
Blankets.
Quilts.
Whatever you want to call them.
But still, they’re just fucking covers.
“I’m not getting a fluffy, pansy-ass, yellow comforter for my bed. We’ll get this one. It’s on sale,” I tell her, grabbing the big plastic bag and pulling it down from the shelf.
“That’s hideous.” She snatches it from my hand, chucking it down the aisle and scaring the shit out of two little old ladies.
“That was a little uncalled for, don’t you think?”
“Here, what about this one?” She ignores me and points to a white down comforter that cost more than my whole bed did.
“If I buy that, when I walk out the door with it, something is going to hit me in the ass. Do you know what that is?”
Glaring up at me, she seems annoyed, but asks, “What?”
“My fucking change. I’m not paying five hundred dollars for something that’s just gonna end up on the floor by the morning anyway.”
I’ve taken a seat on one of the model beds. Now Diem and I are at eye level, and I can feel every dagger she shoots at me. She looks fierce in tiny blue jean shorts, T-shirt, and flip-flops, and wearing yesterday’s makeup. She still smells like me, and I get hard at the thought of what’s between her smooth, tanned legs.
She catches me eyeing her and smiles her mischievous grin. “Make you a deal?” Aw, shit.
“What?” I ask cautiously.
Standing in front of the display like she’s Vanna White, she starts modeling the products. “Buy this comforter, these sheets, and throw in these two accent pillows, and I’ll let you go where no man has gone before.” Just in case her words weren’t clear enough, she drops her sunglasses and bends over to pick them up, sticking her glorious little virgin ass in the air for me to see.
“Do we have a deal?” she purrs, and I’m already on my feet grabbing shit off the shelf and barking out commands.
“Get the fucking pillows.”
Of course Diem found a way to torture me before making good on her promise. She claimed I’d never taken her out on a real date. She’s right. So she wants to get all dressed up and go somewhere fancy. After the thousand dollars I just dropped on linens, I can’t afford fancy.