features soften, morphing into bliss.
“We need to talk,” I say on a smooth inward thrust, planting myself deep.
“About . . . what?” she replies breathlessly.
“This . . . what’s happening between us.”
“You mean . . . this?” she says, tilting her hips, taking everything I’ve got inside of her. “I like this. We can keep doing this as long . . . as . . . you . . . like.”
“Jesus,” I spit out as she clenches her Kegels like a pro. “Quit . . . doing . . . that . . .” She does it again, and I almost come on the spot.
“Said no man ever,” she breathes, lifting her hips and clenching me tight over and over again.
“Can’t . . . talk . . . too . . . busy . . . fucking . . . your . . . brains . . . out.”
She smiles and closes her eyes, her cheeks flushed, her breaths coming out in quick desperate pants. Screw talking—I want to kiss her. I need to kiss her.
I crash my lips onto hers. Our tongues meet in a slow dance that gets faster and faster as my thrusts inside of her become more rushed and erratic. My climax barrels down my spine at lightning—okay not that fast, hold up—speed as Abi’s body bucks and writhes against mine, her pussy grabbing hold of my cock in its much-appreciated iron-clad grip as she cries out into my mouth. At the same time, I groan deep and low into her lips as I bury myself to the hilt inside of her.
I tear my lips from hers, nuzzling my face in her neck as I come back down to earth. When my head doesn’t feel as if it’s just exploded, I roll to the side and pull her with me so she’s leans into my chest.
“You still alive there, Spitfire?”
“If I’m not, I’ve surely gone to heaven,” she replies hoarsely, making me chuckle.
“You must be alive, because you’re far too wicked to end up there.”
“Only because you’re the devil who has lured me over to the dark side. But if this is the underworld, then I’ll give myself over to it willingly if that’s what I’m treated to.” She leans up on an elbow and looks down at me with a knowing gleam in her eye. “So what did you want to talk about?”
I turn my body towards her, lifting my hand to her arm, needing to touch her in a way I hadn’t realized until tonight I did—and often—something she reciprocates. We don’t say anything—we just lie there, looking into each other’s eyes.
“What’s happening here, Cade?” she says quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“This is more than mother buffering, isn’t it?”
I move my head forward and softly kiss her lips, languidly sweeping my tongue in her mouth. Her hand moves around my neck and up into my hair, holding on when I deepen the contact.
I roll her over to lie on top of me, cupping her cheeks in both of my hands and holding her face inches away from mine. “Fuck you look good on top of me.”
“Cade . . .” she whispers, sounding far more vulnerable than I’ve ever heard her “What is this?”
“This is good.”
“It is. This doesn’t feel like a normal fuck buddy scenario, though . . .”
“Why?” I ask, knowing that this is definitely not a sex-only situation, and I don’t think I ever wanted it to be. But something in me needs to hear it in her words.
“Because we do things that isn’t sex stuff, and fuck buddy arrangements don’t work like that.”
“You’ve had a lot of fuck buddies?” I ask, quirking a brow.
“No. I mean, I have had a couple, but who hasn’t in this day and age? What I’m saying is, we’ve blurred the lines here.”
“I like it,” I answer. “I like that we text, we talk, we spend time together just hanging out. We work on so many levels that aren’t sexual that the fact we go off like an atomic bomb in the sack is just the icing on the cake.” I don’t look away from her, hoping like hell she can see that I mean every single word I’m saying.
Her breath hitches and her lips part, her tongue darting out to touch them. I flex my fingers and pull her down for a hard, hungry, mind-shattering kiss.
When I let her up for air, she asks what I’ve been waiting for her to bring up. “So your dad