Page 45 of Whiskey Shivers

He smiled. “Plenty of time for all of that, baby girl. I don’t think I’m going to be able to hold off for very long anyway. You feel so fucking good, and I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Oh, fuck.

His words were an unexpected aphrodisiac and I rose and fell on him just a little bit faster, letting gravity take me down just a little bit harder andoh, yeah!Sparks of madness fizzled out from my core. I knew that just a little bit more of an ability to move, I could come again, like this, just by virtue of him being inside me.

“Shit,” he grunted, his hands going to my hips and holding me down onto his cock as he sat up. He grunted, his body rising and falling as though he were panting, but he wasn’t drawing breath. No, he was already coming, and I tightened my pussy up around him as he did. He cried out with the motion of my body around his.

I smiled and felt myselfglowwith every twitch I could feel from his cock inside me. That light inside of me growing more vibrant with every slight thrust he made beneath me, drawing me just that much closer to my own edge but not over.

“Mmm.” He made the appreciative sound as he came back to himself and the sweep of his gaze up my body to my eyes made my pussy give a little throb of, well, possibly aftershock, but almost more like a preview of coming attractions.

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he said.

“I’m so close,” I told him, a slight fission of nervousness running down my spine.

If it’d been Mark, as of late, he would have just been,“Sorry, babe,”but not Hex. Hex licked his thumb, and delved it between us, pressing it against my clit.

“Use it while we still got it, baby. Come for me. I want to watch you.”

Oh, shit.

I rolled my hips in that way that did everything for me, and Hex grunted, sucking in a breath between his teeth and letting it out slow, his thumb working magic against my clit and sending me spiraling, my body tightening.

“Oh God, there, right there, just like that!” I pressed my lips together and failed at keeping myself in check, crying out when the orgasm hit me. It was like slow motion, the pleasure barreling into me, tackling me, and dragging me outside of my body to leave me floating suspended for what felt like several drawn-out seconds but was really only a fragment of the smallest moment in time. It felt like time suddenly sped up, everything becoming a blur, as I jerked above him and came, slamming back into my body which quaked with the feelings that coursed through me.

I panted above him, smiling down at him, and loved that he lay beneath me, panting in rhythm with me, his eyes heavily lidded with the pleasure I’d given him, his body lax and languid as he basked in his own afterglow.

I wanted so badly to lean over him, to rest my head beside his, and to just enjoy myself, but my shoulder wouldn’t allow that.

“You okay?” he asked me, and I tried to nod but winced.

“Yeah, nope. I think my body’s done,” I said and tried to hold my breath against the wave of pain that swept through me.

“Aw, shit,” he said softly. “What do we need to do?” he asked.

“Um, I’m not sure.” I laughed a little uncomfortably and knew that whatever I did, it wasn’t going to be any kind of graceful.

I think I must have said something out loud to that effect because he laughed slightly and said, “I don’t care about graceful. I care about getting you to a position that’s comfortable for you without hurting you.”

“Fair,” I said, and with a calculated risk, I sort of just let myself keel over onto my good side, uncoupling with him and just sort of lying on my side, panting, but we were free, sort of.

“Um, hang on,” he said, and he dragged the condom out of me with his fingers.

I couldn’t help it. It was sort of the cherry on top of this ridiculousness. I started laughing at the absurdity of it all.

The best part about it was that he laughed with me, rolling onto his side, and kissing my hip, wrapping his arms around me, and laying his head on it. My good arm trapped beneath me, I couldn’t do what I wanted to do, which was run my fingers through his short hair, which had been much softer than it’d looked.

“I think we need a shower,” he said.

I said back, “I would nod to agree with you but I can’t.”

“Aw, sugar, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I told him. “I loved it, and honestly, I think I needed it.”

“Happy to be of service,” he said quietly after a few seconds of silence, where we allowed our breathing to ratchet down one or two more stages to normal.

“You feel so good,” I said back, just as quietly. Maybe awestruck was the word.

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