Page 107 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
“I had a feeling,” I admitted. My mornings, nights, and in between just hadn’t been the same. I needed my man back. “One of us was bound to fold. I was ok with it being me. I couldn’t go another week, another day.”
“I missed you so much it physically hurt. Don’t ever make me go that long without you again.” He leaned in, his lips dragging from the base of my neck to my collarbone before he bit it gently.
“You know biting drives me crazy.”
“Three weeks without this? Without you?” He looked me dead in the eye. “You owe me.”
“What do I owe you?” I asked, gasping, arching into his mouth as he found that sensitive spot just below my ear.
He nodded against my skin, his breath hot and sending shivers down my spine.
“Hours. Multiple rounds. I want every second back.”
He unhooked my bra with a flick of his wrist and stripped out of his own clothes. I ran my nails down his chest, the waterhitting the tile behind us in a soft rhythm added to the moment. I loved his shower.
“Let me start making it up to you,” he said, lifting me again and stepping us both into the shower. The water was warm, cascading over our skin, and I wrapped my arms around his neck as he stared into my soul.
“Then show me,” I whispered. “Show me how much you missed me.”
“With pleasure, baby. We got all night.”
He didn’t waste a second; his mouth found my nipple, his fingers dipping between my thighs, teasing me through soaked lace. I whimpered, legs falling open.
“I need you to know something,” he said against my skin, ripping my lace panties off of me.
“What?”
“I don’t want anybody else. I don’t think about anybody else. You, this?” He kissed me and cupped my pussy, voice thick. “This is home. I’m always choosing home.”
His fingers rubbed my clit, causing me to squirm and throw my head back until he brought me to my first orgasm in the shower. When he finally lifted me out and carried me to the bed, I was high off the bliss I’d been missing.
“On your stomach.”
I obeyed instantly, already knowing what was coming. Malik had healing hands, real ones. My posture was better because of him. He grabbed the oil, climbed behind me, and drizzled it over my back and ass. I hissed at the sensation, expecting his hands.
But instead, his thick filled me stretching me.
“Shit,” I gasped, arching.
His hands worked my lower back while he stroked deep, each movement drawing whimpers from my lips. His grip on my hips tightened, his thrusts growing harder, rougher.
“Pregnant pussy is the best pussy. Gah’damn,” he groaned, smacking my ass and palming it.
“Malik,” I cried out, clutching the sheets. His hands slowed, moved up my back, and the hard pressure on my muscles forced a moan out of me that echoed off the walls.
He gripped my hips, still massaging, and slammed into me over and over.
“Shit,” I said, creaming on his dick. I knew we’d made a mess already. He gripped my hair and neck and continued to hammer into me until I was on the verge of another orgasm.
He was patient but greedy. He pulled out of me and flipped me around to face him. I climbed up the bed a little. I needed to breathe, but he wasn’t having it. He grabbed my ankle, pulling me back until my wet center met the tip of his dick. “You running from me?”
I shook my head, but I was. Thinking about the three weeks without him and the orgasms was making me emotional, “ I missed you, that’s all. I want to see you for a second,” I whispered.
“Come here,” he said, thick dick sliding back in. I arched my back as he glared into my eyes.
“I missed you too, LT.”
Malik kissed my face all over between soft strokes that pulled sounds from me I didn’t know I had in me. He continued to take his time slow-stroking until I couldn’t take it. “Cum for me, Sametra,” he whispered, my name falling from his lip, broke me wide open. “Yeah... like that... damn, just like that, baby.”
