As soon as I drop her to the bed, she pushes her shorts down her legs and spreads wide without an ounce of shame. I really fucking love that about her.
“Now,” she snaps, apparently in a hurry.
I don’t waste time. While she starts tugging her shirt over her head, I drop down to my knees on the floor and jerk her hips to the edge of the bed. My face disappears in the V of her thighs, and I suck her clit into my mouth, taking no prisoners.
Her gasps and moans are all the fuel I need, but when she grabs my hair, pulling me impossibly closer, I growl against her, drinking in her taste. My cock is like stone and painfully digging into the front of my jeans despite the thin layer of protection my boxers give.
All I want to do is bury myself inside her right now, but not until she’s got what she wants.
Her legs tremble, and she goes from pulling me closer to trying to push me away. The second she cries out my name, I tear my mouth away and stand up, undoing my jeans as quickly as possible.
When my cock springs free, happy to be unrestrained, my eyes roam down the very naked body of Bella, who is eyeing me lazily as a relieved smile curls her lips. Seeing her like that is not going to help me last long, but since she just got hers, I’ll settle for a quickie.
Lifting her legs, I lean down between them, staying on my feet next to her high bed, and then I thrust in. Her moan is tortured and euphoric at the same time as she grabs my wrists, the only part of me she can reach.
My hands move to her hips, and I anchor her in place as I thrust in over and over, feeling her encase me tightly. My cock drags out, and slides in with ease, the suction too good. Watching her watch me is too much and will have me exploding too soon, so I drop my eyes to where my cock is moving in and out of her.
I take it back; that’s too much.
Each time my dick disappears back inside her, I edge closer, riding the line of too fast, but I lose my mind when she suddenly clenches around me, finding a second orgasm. She calls out my name again as my thumb brushes over that sensitive bud of hers.
I follow her over as my balls tighten and heat slices up my spine. Release shoots out of me like a cannon and into her, and I groan as my legs curse me for standing.
A tremor wracks my body, and I drop to Bella, kissing her lazily as she drains me. Breathing heavily, I break the kiss and bury my face against her neck, letting the high wash over me until I can get my head working again—obviously I mean my thinking head, not my fucking one.
“Guess you’re not mad at me anymore,” I tell her, still a little breathless.
She laughs and groans at the same time before running her hands through my hair. I love being able to feel that. Hell, I love being able to feel everything these days, and I have no idea how I handled being numb for so long.
“I really wanted to make you grovel longer, but you have impeccable timing,” she says through a winded tone.
I don’t ask questions, because, hell, it’s Bella. I’ll be more confused by the explanation than the intrigue.
Kissing her neck, I slowly start to raise up, but something slaps the floor hard in another room, causing Bella to screech and me to jerk out of her, ready to handle whatever it is.
“That fucking bitch!” Bella hisses.
Laughing, I pull my jeans back in place—since I never fully got out of them, and tuck everything back in where it goes before going to inspect. But when I reach the kitchen, I realize the cat had nothing to do with the sound.
Part of Bella’s ceiling is on the floor, and a pipe is spewing water from the ceiling. What the hell is a water pipe doing up there?
“The hell?” Bella harps, coming up beside me.
“Why do you have plumbing in your ceiling?” I ask her, confused as I walk toward the door.
“Do I look like I know anything about plumbing?” she asks me, following close behind until I start heading outside. “And what are you doing?”
“Shutting your water off at the main before your entire house is fucked.”
She curses as she follows me out, and I find the main, shut it off, and then grab my phone from my pocket to look for a plumber. But… I get a little sick when I see I’ve somehow pocket dialed someone. I really need a fucking lock screen, apparently, because that someone is my mother.
“Mom?” I croak.
A loud throat clearing is what follows my question, and finally a stammered, “Y… Yes?”
“Umm…. How long you been on the phone?”
“I… uh… Oh dear… I… I think I heard something I wasn’t supposed to.”