Page 31 of Kissing Flynn

“Are you ready?” he asks before I can dive too far down that rabbit hole.

“I’m ready,” I say with a small nod.

Bracing his elbows on either side of my head, he dips his head and kisses me as he partially pulls out, leaving me shivering with need. As he drives back in, his tongue pushes between my lips, brushing against mine as I moan into his mouth.

We move slowly at first, finding a matching rhythm. Then Flynn does this little roll thing with his hips, driving him even deeper as his pubic bone presses against my clit, and I barely stop myself from screaming. It’s too much and not enough all at once, making my head spin as heat builds in my core.

“Faster,” I huff out on a breath, surrendering to the need to chase the orgasm that’s hovering just out of reach. “Harder.”

Flynn complies, picking up the pace until he’s slamming into me, making the bed knock into the wall behind my head. I curl my legs around him, pressing my heels into his ass to drive him deeper on each thrust.

I shout as my orgasm slams through me suddenly and without the slow buildup I’m used to. Flynn grunts as my inner walls clench down around him, squeezing his cock as he drives into me again and again, faster and faster until he freezes with a long moan.

Holy shit.

That was… There are no words to describe it. At least none that my addled brain can conjure up at the current moment.

“God damn,” Flynn mutters, his voice filled with the same awe coursing through me.

He drops his head to my shoulder, breathing hard as his body trembles with post-orgasmic euphoria. My inner walls flutter with an aftershock, and Flynn moans before pressing a long kiss to the side of my neck.

He rolls off me then, his softening cock regretfully slipping out of me, but he makes up for it by pulling me with him until I’m snuggled into his side. His arm curves around me. My head rests on his chest where I can hear the rhythm of his heart slowly return to normal.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers on an exhale that ruffles my hair just before he presses a kiss to my head. “Absolute perfection.”

A smile curves my lips as exhaustion overshadows the bliss. I feel like I should say something, anything, but the fog in my brain takes over.

I feel Flynn’s arm tighten around me, his fingertips dragging up my arm and back down in slow-motion. He whispers something that sounds like goodnight, and before I can dredge up the energy to respond in kind, everything goes dark.

Twenty

Flynn

My eyes blink open slowly, and I push my arms upward in a long stretch. Dropping my arms I roll onto my side, noticing a head-sized indention in the pillow next to mine.

Memories from last night come rushing back, and I close my eyes to let them sweep me away. Max’s lips on mine. Her body, naked and writhing beneath me. The mind-blowing sex. The cuddling afterward.

It was everything I’d dreamed of and everything I never dreamed I could have in reality.

And now she’s gone.

Rolling back onto my back, I look at the clock on my nightstand. It’s seven a.m. I have no idea what time it was when I fell asleep last night, but it couldn’t have been later than nine or nine-thirty. Jesus, I don’t remember the last time I slept that long without waking up.

Sitting up, I look around the room. Max is definitely not in here. And my bathroom door is open and the lights are off, so she’s not in there, either. I look at the doors connecting our rooms, and they’re both wide open.

A relieved smile curves my lips. Max may have left me sleeping in my bed, but she’s not shutting me out. Rolling out of bed, I tug my boxers free of my wadded up jeans and pull them on. After making a pit stop in my bathroom to use the toilet, wash my hands and face, and brush my teeth, I head to the connecting doors and poke my head inside.

Max isn’t in here, either, but her bathroom door is open, and I can hear running water coming from inside. She’s in the shower.

God, how I’d love to just waltz in there and join her, but I don’t want to assume anything. Sure, we had sex, but I don’t know if she’s ready for that level of intimacy, yet, where I can just join her in her shower without invitation.

Moving toward the bathroom, I stand beside the door and lean back against the wall, calling out, “Good morning.”

“Flynn?” she calls back, the question evident in her voice.

“Who else would be in your room?” I call back in a teasing tone.

“Come in here. I can’t hear you over the water,” she yells, so I push off the wall and step inside the bathroom.

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