Page 64 of Rum Sips and Salty Lips

“We’re still fighting. This isn’t a truce,” she says.

I understand what she’s thinking. If we’re fighting, then this isn’t a real connection. It’s bullshit, but it’s what I’ll let her believe. She can lie to herself. She can’t lie to me.

“I know. I’m counting on it.” I can’t tell her the truth—that I’ll stop fighting with her at any moment. If all she’ll give me is the fight, then I’ll take it. I’ve never been this desperate with any other woman.

It’ll take time with her. I’ll break her out of her cage.

She kneels on the bed and works me out of my T-shirt. If she notices it’s one of hers, she doesn’t react.

I missed her so much; I’d do anything to feel closer to her.

I yank off her tank and she wiggles out of her sports bra. I run my fingers across the indents it left. Even in this moment, I want to treasure her. But she doesn’t let me linger. She pulls down her leggings. I’m not surprised to find she’s not wearing any underwear.

I swear my mind goes blank, even though I was expecting it.

I pick her up and flip her to her stomach, pressing her into the bed. I reach for her pussy and am delighted to find her wet. “I knew fighting with me gets you horny.”

“Stop messing around, then,” she cries as I press a finger into her and she moans.

“I want to play a game,” I whisper into her ear. “First one to come loses.” I need chaos in bed with her because my feelings are settling.

“That’s not fair to me! If I get you off, what’s to stop you from leaving me high and dry?” she asks, her hips pressing into my erection through my shorts, seeking friction.

I kiss her shoulder. “If I come first, I’ll lick you until you come twice and then my cock should be ready to go again.”

Her pussy clenches around my fingers.

“And if I come first?”

“I’ll make you come again. Either way, you’re coming at least twice.”

I want to rip her open and see her insides. If she won’t let me into her heart, I can at least give her orgasms.

“Deal.” She pushes back with more force and leverages me off her. She’s reaching for my shorts before I can react. “You have condoms, right?” she asks.

I grab one from my nightstand. I stocked up a few days ago, because regardless of what we said, I want this to continue.

She removes my shorts and then takes the condom from me.

“You can’t skip straight to fucking,” I protest. I want to taste her because it’s the best chance I have of winning this game. She comes so easily; it’s really unfair of me to suggest this.

“What are you so afraid of? You think you can’t handle my pussy?”

I groan as she puts the condom on me, her soft hand squeezing me. How does she know exactly how I like it? I don’t know where this version of her came from but I love it. Once I’m sheathed, she leans over the bed, shoving her ass in the air. She’s ready and waiting. I thrust in.

She’s so tight and feels so good. I love that I’m fucking her on my bed—my last sanctuary from her. This is only temporary, butI’ll never get her out of my spaces. She’s invaded my boat and now my bed and I want her to grow her vines into my whole life.

It’s slow, so I don’t notice at first. She lifts her left leg up and presses it against my chest. I realize she’s doing the splits against me, and my cock is buried in her, and she is the sexiest being on the planet.

I’m so lucky I’m the man she’s doing this with.

I kiss her calf and focus on the sounds she is making.

She’s given me easy access to her clit, and I brush it gently, the way she likes it, knowing it won’t take her much to come. She clenches tighter around me as I pump into her.

Fuck, she feels amazing. The challenge is she knows this—she’s going to make me come.

I pull out of her and she falls to the bed without my support. She quickly recovers and flips to her back.

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