Firestorm - Ellie Masters Page 0,56

fuck.

My dick is spent, and as I carry her to my bedroom, our connection is momentarily severed. Not that I’m worried. We have all night in each other’s arms and it won’t be too long until I’m buried deep inside of her again.

I walk to the foot of my bed and slowly lower her down on the mattress. Turning my back, I take care of the condom, pulling it off and tying it closed. It goes in the trash as I spin around where I can finally feast upon Evelyn’s gloriously naked body.

She stretches and yawns. Her toes curl tight and her tits jut forward as her arms lift over her head.

“Don’t think for a minute you’re going to sleep. We’ve barely started.”

“Is that so?”

A quick glance at my twitching dick tells me this is so. I need a little more time to recover, but I know exactly how to pass the time.

Those amazing tits are calling my name.

16

Evelyn

The night passes in a blur of sensation. We go from frenzied fucking to more leisurely lovemaking. I ride the ebb and flow of Asher’s hunger until we both finally give in to the sweet embrace of sleep.

Morning comes far too soon and, when I wake, the intoxicating smell of bacon fills the air. Light streams through a gap in the curtains and dust motes dance in the sunbeams spilling into the room. The comforter lies in a crumpled mess on the floor and the sheets are a knotted mess. Wrapped in Asher’s arms all night, I found myself blissfully content, but he’s not here.

The bed is empty.

Asher must have awakened early, which explains the mouthwatering smells coming from down the hall. It tickles me that he’s making breakfast for us. I’m finding Asher exceptionally attentive and I’m not ashamed to say I’m loving every second of it. My life has been easy, but nobody’s ever pampered me the way this man does. No one’s ever made love to me the way he did last night.

Rising from bed, my quick scan of the room reveals my clothing propped on the overstuffed corner chair in a neat little stack.

A blush rises in my cheeks. Asher bent me over the arm of that chair and fucked me from behind, bringing me to my third epic climax. The memory of everything we did makes me smile.

My heart fills with the tender display of the neatly stacked pile of my clothes. We left a mess of discarded clothing strewn down that hall. His consideration for my comfort means more than he’ll ever know. Not many men would pick up a woman’s clothes, let alone fold them.

My clothes aren’t clean, but they’re far from dirty. Not that dirt bothers me. I’m a hiker and a camper. I’ve worn my hiking gear for days before considering it in need of a fresh wash. Not knowing how long Asher has been up, I make use of the adjoining master bathroom to freshen up. Then I pull on my clothing from the day before, minus the panties, and head out of his room in search of those mouthwatering smells.

In our sexual frenzy, we skipped the obligatory house tour, but I find my way without difficultly by following my nose. Music blares through what appears to be house-wide speakers because the pulse-pounding invigorating rock music pours into every room. It’s throaty, deep and powerful with its unapologetic lyrics and demanding bass lines.

And it’s loud.

The mouthwatering smell of bacon frying on the stove lures me down the hall, through a massive living area, into a study, and finally to what must be a gourmet chef’s dream kitchen.

The house is gorgeous with stone walls, wooden floors, and massive wood beams holding up a towering ceiling. Neutral tones predominate; from the brown leather couches to the light taupe widow dressings.

Yet there are pops of color here and there. Nothing feminine. A flash of cornflower blue in a pillow, ruby red in the floral display on the coffee table. A dash of yellow on the built-in bookcases which are crammed full of well-loved books.

The weight of history hangs over the place and I envision generations of La Rouge children running through these rooms. Family portraits decorate the walls, La Rouge families gathering with stern-faced fathers, stoic mothers, and kids with lots of smiling and goofing off. The place feels like home and I can’t help but wrap my arms around myself.

When I make my way to the kitchen, I stop dead in my tracks. I’m