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I already came, but I knew I was going to come again. I could already feel the arousal building up between my legs. It was a new sensation, something I never felt before. I’d heard about multiple orgasms but never had one in reality. “Yes…fuck me.”

He pressed his forehead to mine and hit me deeper. “I’m the only man who is man enough to fuck a woman like you.”

I woke up the next morning in exactly what I was wearing the night before. My dress was still pulled up to my waist, and my panties were on the other side of the room. I didn’t sleep under the covers because Bones was warm enough to keep me comfortable throughout the night.

As my eyes opened, the night before came back to me.

We fucked so damn hard.

God, it was so good.

But so fucking bad.

He was naked beside me, a behemoth more than a man. His chest rose and fell at a steady rate, his black ink slightly messed up in the various places he’d been shot or stabbed. I examined them in more detail while he slept, never noticing them before because I never had the chance.

He was usually awake before I was.

I counted three stab wounds and four bullet holes.

Jesus.

He woke up shortly afterward, his cock already hard against his stomach. He had a serious case of morning wood—and he had it every single day. He opened his eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling. It seemed to take him a second to remember where he was.

To remember last night.

He slowly turned toward me, a slight grin on his face.

He was definitely thinking of last night.

I refused to blush. I refused to show weakness. Even though that usually made him want me more.

“Your bed is comfortable.”

“Thanks. Sorry it’s a queen.”

“When you sleep on me like this, it doesn’t make a difference.” He rolled on top of me, and like every morning when I stayed with him, he pointed his cock at my entrance and slid inside me.

I missed morning sex. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I started to wake up horny every morning.

Like every other time, it was slow because we were both waking up still. Still slightly asleep, our sensations were heightened. Everything felt so much better, more intense. His hand slid into my hair, and he kept me in place as his hips thrust into me.

I came shortly afterward, coming around his dick while his seed was still inside me from the night before.

He came immediately afterward, like he was just waiting for me to finish so he could release himself. He stayed inside me until his cock started to soften. Then he got out of bed. “I’m getting in the shower. I want breakfast when I’m done.”

And just like that, the comfortable moment we just had was shattered. “Excuse me?”

He stood by the bed, over six feet of all muscle. “You heard me.”

“I’m not cooking for you.”

His eyes narrowed. “I cooked for you every day when you stayed with me.”

“Uh, no, you didn’t.”

“I’m the one who paid to have it prepared.”

“Asshole, I don’t cook. I can barely make eggs. The only thing I can do is make coffee—because I have a coffee machine.”

“Then what do you eat every morning?”

“Coffee.”

“And?” he pressed.

“And coffee,” I repeated.

“When do you eat real food?”

“Lunch time.”

“And what do you have then?”

“I pick up something. Same with dinner.”

He grabbed his t-shirt from the floor then pulled it over his head. “Then let’s go out for breakfast.”

I laughed because it was ridiculous. “Yeah, okay…”

He stared me down, his pretty eyes no longer so beautiful. “I’m serious.”

“You want to go out in public?” I asked incredulously. “Together?”

“Yes. Now, put something on. But I don’t mind if you want to go out like that.” He nodded to my dress. “Let the whole world know I fucked you last night. Works for me.” He stepped into my bathroom then turned on the faucet.

I couldn’t believe I was going out into the real world with this guy.

With this monster.

We went to a café down the street from my house. The snow had melted with the sun, but there were still patches of it everywhere. We sat inside by the windows, which were frosted by the corners because it was so cold outside.

A steaming cup of coffee was in front of him. He drank it black, his muscled forearms resting on the table.

I hardly touched mine, still in shock this was really happening.

The waitress brought our food a second later. Bones had a huge breakfast all to himself with lots of bacon and carbs.

I had a few eggs and a piece of toast.

He started to eat, scarfing everything down.

I glanced around the restaurant, wondering if there was anyone who recognized me. Thankfully, there wasn’t.

“Ashamed of me?” he asked, catching on to my movements.


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