Page 68 of Pen Me

I spread it and locked my thumb over her pucker. I felt her shiver on top of me and tense, so I didn’t intrude. I did, however, massage it until she was pressing back against my thumb while she came. The feel of her tight pussy gripping and demanding was enough to take me with her.

I lay there spent, massaging her ass with both hands and occasionally swatting it lightly. She rolled it at me and my soul went into convulsions.

“Damn it,” I clutched her ass.

“You sure do like ass,” she observed.

“Mhm.” I stressed the sound.

“I should have known. Jailbird.”

I snorted and firmly slapped her ass, causing her to lurch and me to gasp again.

“What? You admitted to it!”

“I liked ass long before I was ever shown a jail cell, thank you.” I laughed, hauling her off me even if it killed me to do so.

I cuddled with her for a few minutes and then went upstairs to get a washrag. Octavia was sleeping on the sofa, and I could hear Rumi’s distant snores from upstairs.

We drifted a few hours in each other's arms and awoke to the scent of something sweet.

“What is that?” Sammy mused, her belly growling.

“I don’t know, but I’m definitely going to investigate.”

Sammy nodded and waved me away.

“Come on, you’re starving.”

“I’ll be there.” She yawned. “Takes me a second to fully wake up.”

Rumi was standing in front of the kitchen counter operating a waffle press. She had a big plate of already cooked ones gathering beside her workspace.

“Morning,” I greeted.

She carefully plucked a Belgium-sized waffle off the thing before flashing me a smile.

“Are you guys hungry?”

“Starving.” I didn’t bother denying.

“I have some with blueberries, some without.”

“Wow.” Sammy sounded impressed as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and glanced toward the sofa. “Where is your mom?”

“Shower,” she chirped. “Mom made the juice; I made the waffles.”

“Nice.” Sam sleepily chimed, settling next to me at the table.

Her eyes were still low, and her hair was in a messy bun. I winked at her and she grunted, twitching the corners of her mouth up.

“I thought marines were used to being up at the ass-crack of dawn?” I teased.

She raised a finger and kept her hand that way while she shot me a salute.

“You were a marine?” Rumi asked, peeking over her shoulder.

“She sure was,” I answered for Sam, when she seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden.

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