Page 74 of Crazy Love

There’s a little crease between her brows every time I slide in more, her tongue pressing against her bottom lip, and then I glance down where I’m sliding into her and groan.

“Oh, you’re perfect,” I rasp. “I want to draw this out and I want to fuck you so thoroughly you’ll feel me for days.”

“Both can be true.”

She starts to meet my thrusts, trying to get more of me, and I keep holding back, teasing her until she’s flushed and greedy and all grabby hands, and I fucking love it more than I thought possible.

When I go deeper, she’s relieved and satiated for a second, until I pull back out, and then she’s hungry for more. I become addicted to filling her up and hollowing her out and then depriving her, only to do it all over again. We’re relentless, our rhythm punishing and profound, like we’re the only two people who exist and we exist only to bring each other pleasure.

“I’m so close,” she cries out when I go in the deepest yet.

“I feel you clenching around me and I’m right there, Addy. Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.”

“Harder,” she says. “Don’t hold back.”

I don’t hold back another second. I thrust inside her, all restraint falling away, and when she starts coming, I kiss her, both of us swallowing up each other’s cries. Spots dance over my vision when I spill into her, and I’m lightheaded as unreal sensations sweep over me. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

And I think,I surrender.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

THE MORNING AFTER

ADELINE

The morning wakeup is entirely different than yesterday morning. For one thing, we woke each other up all night long. After we had sex the first time, we took a long shower, exploring each other slowly in there, and then we fell asleep talking about how fun the party was, how much we shocked everyone…and I woke up to his mouth between my legs again.

The way this man makes me feel. I should’ve known he’d know what he was doing, but HOW COULD I HAVE KNOWN THIS KIND OF MAN EVEN EXISTS?

I was thoroughly loved up last night after the first orgasm and then the second surpassed that. The third one in the shower made my legs give out and he had to hold me up while he gave me a fourth. Then the fifth one, I woke up with him between my legs, and the sixth one when he slipped inside me from the back, as his fingers did lazy circles over my center…it’s been the best kind of night.

I don’t even know what to think.

I expected to have a good time with Penn. I knew that I liked him too much, that I’m unbelievably attracted to him, that we just seem to meshso welltogether, but I seriously did not see this coming.

Our bodies are like freaking porn stars together.

I sneak out of bed. We both fell back to sleep after that last time and he looks angelic lying on his side, facing where I was lying, his hand stretched out like he’s reaching for me. I wash up and put on a cute, oversized sweatshirt and leggings, pile my hair in a messy bun, and go to the kitchen to make breakfast. It’s Sunday morning, and despite the night I just had, I feel energized and want to make sure Sam’s taken care of.

What Sam said last night, when he checked to make sure I was okay with this…it endeared me to him even more. I don’t have a lot of experience with kids his age, but the few I’ve been around haven’t been so considerate of other people’s feelings. That he could go through all he’s been through and still be concerned about me at all is just further proof of how special this boy is.

I didn’t bring all my clothes or any furniture yet, but I brought my juicer. I get the ingredients together for a green juice I already know Penn likes. It’s one of the players’ favorites.Then I fill a pan with spicy chicken sausage and turn it on low, beat eggs for a veggie and cheese scramble, and then work on smoothing out the pancake batter. When I hear footsteps upstairs, I turn on the pan for the eggs and dollop out the perfect portion of batter on the griddle. Then I turn the juicer on and have enough for all three of us by the time Sam walks into the kitchen.

He sees all the food going and his eyes widen. “Wow! What are you making?”

“A few things. I figured we’d all be ready for a nice Sunday brunch after sleeping in a little this morning.”

He comes over and checks it all out. “Yum. And pancakes too?” He rubs his stomach. “I can’t wait. How do you make all this?”

“I used to follow recipes to a T and now it just all kind of lives up here.” I tap my head. “I can show you how to make whatever you’d like to cook, if you’re interested.” I turn the eggs down before taking the pancakes off the griddle and putting a pat of butter on each one. I pile them high and pour another batch on the griddle.

“Totally,” he says, excited. “I want to learn how to make all of it.”

“All right. It’s a deal. I’d love your help.” The microwave dings. “Oh, would you grab that? It’s our syrup.”

“You heat up the syrup?” he asks in wonder.

I grin, loving his enthusiasm so much. “I think it adds a nice touch and keeps the pancakes a little warmer, longer.”

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