Page 35 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

Matt groaned as my inner walls went crazy with pleasure around his hardness; one thrust, two, one more deep and sure before he climaxed with a guttural moan of satisfaction. He collapsed against me, out of breath like I was, and we laid there waiting for life to return.

La petite mort. That’s what the French call it. I was certain I had read that somewhere. The little death, that post-orgasmic state of barely conscious existence. La petite mort. I would happily welcome the little death in Matt’s arms again…forever.

“Are you okay?” Matt asked what seemed like hours later but could not have been more than fifteen minutes. He raised up onto his elbows, large hands framing my face while he tenderly kissed my nose, then chin, before he licked my lips.

I smiled, blinking slowly as I focused my gaze on his face. “Yes.” My voice sounded lazy.

He grinned and brushed some hair off my damp face. “It’s good to be home.” he murmured. “And you probably woke everyone up with all that screaming.”

I was too satisfied to care. In the cold light of day, yes; right now I couldn’t give a rat’s ass. Matt continued showering me with soft kisses as we laid joined intimately. He was still semi-hard, still deep within the warm folds of my body and it was good having him home. I stroked one hand up and down the slick lines of his back. Sex sweat, mmm…but the sticky remnants of our mutual climaxes were finding a way out our joined flesh.

“Bathroom,” I finally said, giggling when he teased my ear lobe with his teeth.

“What about it?” Matt lifted his hips up and I moaned loudly as he began to move inside me.

“So soon?” I asked, already knowing the answer from the growing lust in his eyes.

“Give me a little time to recuperate and we’ll see.” he replied and I forgot about cleaning up for the moment. A very long, pleasure filled moment with kisses and cuddles.

Needing a breather and a splash of water to cool down, I found myself in the en-suite, smiling at my reflection of wild hair and swollen lips. Matt was calling me back to bed and I finished cleaning up.

“Matt, did you really enjoy the show last night?” I asked while walking back into the bedroom and climbing into bed.

“I always say what I mean, and I told you it was magnificent.” he confirmed. Matt bunched up my discarded matching bra and panties before tossing them aside. His wavy black locks were in disarray around his face, his skin still flushed from our vigorous coupling. The covers were piled at the bottom of the bed so I went to pull them back over us. Matt made a sound low in his throat that caused adelightful fluttering in my stomach. “Don’t do that.”

I looked over my shoulder and wiggled my ass, which he was staring at greedily. In a flash he leaned forward and grabbed me around the waist, yanking me firmly into his arms.

“I love you.” he muttered while I squirmed in a half-hearted attempt to escape his hold. I stopped, scrutinizing his features as I ran my hand through his tousled hair.

“What do you love about me, Mr Bradley?”

Matt caught his lower lip between his teeth and returned my gaze. I arched an eyebrow at him and he settled us back against the pillows.

“The physical or non-physical attributes?” he queried then buried his face in my hair.

“Um, start with the physical,” I nudged his leg with my foot so I could entwine our lower limbs then continued with a dry, “This should be interesting.”

Matt rolled his eyes at my tone before casting his gaze over me. “Let’s ignore the obvious beauty of your face for now,”

I tried to hide my pleased smile.

Matt saw and snorted, “Vain,” under his breath.

But I wasn’t vain, far from it. Sometimes I wondered what it was he saw in me that had led us to here, in his bed, with his ring on my finger. Well, he was about to give me the answer. Matt ran a fingertip down my neck and over one shoulder before tracing the juncture where they met.

“This spot right here. I can’t explain it, but this spot is akin to a magnet for my lips. I have a constant urge to kiss you -” He did. “- right here. Then there’s this spot between your collar bone,” His index finger stroked it lightly.

“Oh wait,” I interrupted. “I know what it is. I saw it in that old movie, ah, The English Patient,”

“Shush,” he chastised then traced his finger up, coming to the skin behind my ear. I shivered automatically. “Here. You’re sensitive here. I thoroughly enjoy that squeak you make whenever I run my tongue here.”

A squeak did indeed fall from my mouth when he ran his tongue behind my ear. Matt chuckled and I sent him a mock glare.

“And what can I say about these?” He twisted me onto my back and cupped my boobies as he settled over my lower body. Matt kept his mesmerizing gaze on me and slowly ran his thumbs over my nipples until they hardened. “Mmm, I call these my twin peaks of contentment.”

“Idiot.” I smacked one of his hand away and he lowered his head to flick his tongue over my taut nipple, pulling a gasp from me. “Ah, uh, why contentment?”

Matt closed his mouth over my nipple and sucked. My hand found its way into his mussed up hair as I groaned out loud. He switched over to my other boob and administered the same treatment before saying huskily, “Doing that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

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