I take the opportunity while she’s wrecked to start disrobing. Shoes, socks, belt. Her head lifts from the bed as she watches me fumble at the buttons to my shirt, lifting it and my t-shirt underneath off in one fell swoop. Regan lifts her torso slightly, shrugging out of her shirt and bra as I scramble out of my pants and boxers. The entire time, we just watch each other, my tongue still tingling with the taste of her.
It’s necessary to turn away from her, but only for a moment as I stride into my bathroom to grab a condom from my linen closet. I know a lot of dudes who keep them in the bedside table, but I don’t bring women to my place. Not since that batshit crazy Nanette Pearson decided to sue me after we fucked.
I snag a condom, start for the bedroom, but then pause and turn back.
I grab another.
When I make it to the bedroom, I find Regan has gotten busy with the comforter and sheets, pulling them all down to expose a perfectly blank canvas of white cotton, her naked body stretched languidly out.
Fuck… but she is utterly perfect.
As I make my way toward her, fisting foiled condom packets, her gaze travels boldly down my body to focus on my erection. It’s so hard it’s standing straight up. My balls feel overly heavy, and I think I’m so turned on with need for her it’s going to hurt a little when I come.
That’s okay, though. I have a feeling deep in my gut this is going to feel better than anything I’ve ever experienced before.
I crawl onto the bed, straight up her body where her legs spread in invitation. I bring my mouth to hers, knowing she’s fully tasting the orgasm she just had on my tongue. She groans and returns my kiss roughly, hands going to my hips to urge me to her.
Pushing a condom into her hand as I rise to my knees, I say, “Put it on me.”
Regan scoots up, leaning against my pillows and headboard. Inching forward, I wrap my hand around my cock, bringing it closer. Within moments, she has the rubber out of the package and lined up over the fat head. The first touch of her fingers on me causes my balls to pull inward.
I dig my teeth down into my lower lip, causing pain to get more in control of myself. She rolls the sheath over my length, letting her fingers stray down the length and flutter over my balls before she scoots into a prone position.
I follow suit, coming down on top of her. My cock knows the way, instinctually pressing right to her core. Regan’s legs spread, raise, and I start to slide in.
Fuck, I’d been right…
This is heaven.CHAPTER 8ReganDax is long and thick. He stretches me to a fullness I didn’t think was possible. Granted, I don’t have a ton of experience at this and what he did with his mouth was an incredible first for me, but when I say he fills me… I’m not just talking physically.
There is some sort of connection between us that seems… almost ancient. Like maybe it existed before we were ever created.
Or is that the romantic in me that refuses to die? Is it a futile hope from a girl who married a man she loves but not in the way a wife should love a husband, but perhaps sappily yearns it could turn into something more? Am I just being a foolish and naive girl instead of a woman who just had a man put his mouth between her legs and made her orgasm in like a nanosecond?
I’d possibly continue to ponder these myths and fantasies if it weren’t for the fact Dax bottoms out in me, and I’m fully impaled by this large man. Completely at his mercy, my body a vessel for him to do with what he wants.
And I want him to do anything and everything. I’m not stupid. If not for the bourbon, we would not be here right this moment.
Dax lifts his hips, starting to slide free. I want to protest, but his mouth returns to mine and I swallow it back. The mechanics of sex comes back and before I can even yearn for his thickness, he’s pushing into me again.
Stuffing me so very full.
“Are you okay, Regan?” he murmurs against my lips, hips still moving leisurely against me.
“More than.” My voice is soft and dreamy, and it causes Dax to lift his head.
His eyes search mine as if something in my tone causes him to doubt my words.
I merely smile at him languidly, curling a hand behind his neck to play with the ends of his hair. “It feels good, Dax.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he replies gravely. “I mean… anything I need to be careful of given…”