“You’ll never be alone so long as I’m drawing breath, sweetheart,” I promise, pulling out and sliding back into her silken heat, using my body as well as my words to emphasize my point. “We’ve both been alone, but we have each other to lean on now.”
I flip us so I’m on my back with Poppy straddling my hips. She braces her hands against my chest, her eyes locked on mine as she lifts off my cock and slides back down. She does it again and again, increasing her tempo until she’s riding me hard.
I buck my hips to meet her, gripping her thighs so that our bodies come together with a wildness that should be painful, but it just feels like fucking heaven.
“Jensen, I’m going to come again!” Poppy gasps, grinding her clit against my pelvis, stuffed full of my cock.
I reach up to cup her breasts, thumbing her nipples, and she flies over the edge. I feel her body spasm, watch as her face screws up like she’s in the sweetest kind of torture. I barely register the bite of her fingernails in my chest as she rides out her climax. A second later, I follow her into fiery bliss as her pussy clamps down on my cock, milking my orgasm from me. I unload inside her with a roar, my hands bruising her hips as I fuse her to me.
Poppy collapses on my chest, her body still twitching with little aftershocks of pleasure. I run my hands down her sweaty back, sifting my fingers through her damp hair as we both catch our breath.
“Love you, Poppy Parsons,” I murmur, kissing the top of her head.
“Love you, too, Jensen Lockhart,” she mumbles sleepily. “More than butter popcorn.”
I laugh softly, pulling the sheet over us as her breathing softens with sleep. I lie there, relishing the weight of her in my arms, wanting to savor the moment, but exhaustion takes over, and my eyes drift closed.