His hurried hands remove the shirt I’m wearing and slide down my panties. Then he shucks his own boxer briefs. He reaches for his jeans on the floor and pulls a condom out of his pocket. He starts to rip open the package, but I have other plans. “Let me,” I say, holding out my hand for the condom. His wild eyes lock back on mine as he hands me the little foil package. “Lay down on your back.”
He does as he’s told, and I rip open the package with my teeth. His shaft jerks as he watches my movements, his eyes going from dark brown to black with lust. I reach down and grab a hold of him and slowly, oh so slowly, begin to roll the condom on. “Shit, that feels so much better when you do it,” he says, his voice breathy and barely a whisper.
I resume my position, straddling his waist, and slowly sink down on top of him. He’s so big and hard and stretches me, filling me completely. Our moans are mixed together, and I can’t tell what sounds come from him and what come from me. I lean forward and take his lips in mine, my hair hanging down against his face, his chest. His hands that grip my hips border on the line of pain and pleasure. I know I’m going to have marks tomorrow, but at this moment, I could care less. I devour his lips, raking my teeth over his lower lip, down his chin. I feel him shudder from the contact and it seems to ignite him even further.
I sit up as he starts to pump up into me; I’m riding him with abandon. As I feel the familiar tightening in my lower stomach, I throw my head back and bit my lip hard to keep from crying out too loudly. I practically see stars as the orgasm rips through my entire body. His hands tighten on my hips further and he thrusts up into me a few more times before finding his own release.
I lie down on his chest, Maddox still buried deep inside me. Our sweaty, heaving chests are pressed tightly together, our breath mixing together in a wild pant.
“That was fucking amazing,” he says.
“Uh huh.” I’m still working on getting my heart rate back down to a semi-normal pace so I close my eyes and just listen to the sound of his erratic heartbeat against my head.
The next thing I know, my alarm is going off again. I start to stir but realize I’m being held firmly against something very warm and very hard. It’s Maddox. I’m sleeping on his chest, my legs still straddling him, his arms firmly around me. He’s also still inside me. I start to wiggle to try to slip out of his embrace without waking him, but it’s useless. He has a firm hold on me.
“Just a few more minutes,” he whispers as I start to feel him stir to life inside of me.
“I can’t. I have to check Brooklyn’s temperature.” My response gets an immediate reaction from him. He lets go with his arms and pulls out of me.
“I’ll throw this out and help you,” he says, palming the condom in his hand.
“No, go back to sleep. It’s early.”
“I want to help.” He reaches for his boxers that were discarded on the floor and slips them on before walking over to the door. He slowly opens it up, peeking out into the hallway as if to make sure no one is watching him exit the room. He heads over to the bathroom and shuts the door. I finish throwing back on Maddox’s t-shirt and my panties and head toward the bathroom. Maddox is opening the door as I approach, and he hands me the thermometer.
Once inside of Brooklyn’s room, I take her temperature quickly with the ear thermometer. One hundred and one. “Well, at least it’s not going up right now,” I say as I feel my daughter’s forehead. She’s sweaty and her cheeks are rosy which I take as a good sign that she’s trying to sweat it out. I go ahead and wake her up enough to give her another dose of Tylenol. When she opens her eyes, she spots Maddox standing in the doorway and smiles. I freeze.
“Maddox is here,” she mumbles with that sweet little smile on her face, oblivious to the fact that he’s standing there in his underwear.
“Yep, I just wanted to make sure you were starting to feel better,” he responds.
“Will you snuggle wiff me?” she asks in all her three year old innocence. Oh, this is bad. Will she remember that he was here and tell someone? Will she ask me tons of questions that I’m not prepared to answer?
I don’t have time to process this revelation before Maddox is sitting down on the floor next to Brooklyn’s toddler bed and leaning over the plastic side of the bed to snuggle up with my daughter in what looks like the most uncomfortable position ever. He rubs his hand repeatedly over her sweaty forehead and mumbles softly in her ear. I watch this beautiful picture unfold before my eyes and fight the urge to cry the tears that are rising to the surface. He’s willingly stepping in and giving my daughter what she wants in her time of need.