Page 66 of Tear Me to Pieces
Her thighs start to shake almost immediately, full lips rounded into a silentohas I exploit the place I’m committing to memory with each thrust of my hips.
“That’s it, My,” I encourage her as I chase her climax. “Give me what I want, Sweetheart.” I drink in the sight of her under me, savoring it the way I couldn’t before. That’s the only reason I see her unraveling. The only way I have any warning she’s about to come undone for me.
On me.
Myra’s eyes open wide, spine arching, nails digging into my skin as her pussy clenches. The sight, the sound, the feel, it’s so fucking perfect and I follow right behind her, spilling into her body once more.
And because I’m a little fucked up, I keep rocking into her body as long as I can, pushing my cum as far in as I can make it go until I’m forced to finally pull free. When she gets up to pee, I watch a trickle of it glisten on her skin as it runs down the inside of her thigh, frowning at the loss.
While she’s gone, I lay in her bed—our bed—and make a plan to replace it as soon as possible.
23
MYRA
“Give it to me,Myra. Give me what I want.” Simon’s voice is harsh. Demanding.
And more than enough to have my head falling back and my body shuddering. I come so hard my vision blurs and my ears ring.
Both things I didn’t even know were possible a few weeks ago. Now I get to experience them every day.
Sometimes twice.
Simon pulls me closer, bringing my bare ass to the edge of the counter as he pounds into me, the dick I was once worried wouldn’t fit hitting every nerve ending in a way that drags out my orgasm and pulls the most unholy sounds through my lips.
I can feel when he comes. The heat of it as he fills me to the brim, his continuing thrusts sounding wetter and wetter as he plunges into me over and over. Simon doesn’t stop until he physically can’t go anymore. Only then does his cock slide free, leaving me feeling empty but so, so satisfied.
And messy.
“I’m scared to move.” I press my lips together as I look down. “I’m afraid I’m going to get stuff everywhere.”
“Here.” Simon grabs the shirt he discarded two seconds after I got home from work and tucks it between my thighs, his wide palm positioning the worn cotton right where it will catch anything that jumps ship.
“We should probably try to keep our activities on the second floor to avoid this.” I slide off the island in my kitchen, legs a little wobbly as I find my footing.
“Or I can start putting in the half-bath you said I could install.” Simon walks with me, holding his T-shirt in place during the weirdest trip I’ve ever taken up my stairs. “I finished up the trim in the family room and front room today, so I can get that project rolling tomorrow.”
“Let’s make a deal.” I waddle my way to the second floor, naked lower half on full display. “You can start working on the bathroom if you promise that we never do whatever it is we’re doing right now again.” It feels ridiculous, so I can only imagine how it looks. When I do picture myself scaling the stairs with Simon’s T-shirt turned cum catcher wedged between my legs, I start to laugh.
It’s only half a heartbeat before Simon is laughing with me, the hand that’s not holding his T-shirt coming to grip the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss as we reach the top of the stairs. He leans back, shaking his head. “God, I love you.”
I was already having a tough enough time putting one foot in front of the other, and his unexpected words have my brain tripping over itself, causing the rest of me to do the same.
Simon easily catches me, oblivious to the way he’s just rocked my world. Not just with what he said, but with how he said it. The way it was so natural to him it hasn’t even registered the words passed through his lips.
He didn’t think them through or plan them out or try to strategize how best to use them. They were simply stated. Like a fun fact he wanted to share with me.
I’m still turning those three words over in my head when we reach my bathroom. I go inside, closing the door on him. I might be okay letting him serve as the jizz juggler, but I’m not quite prepared for him to listen to me pee or watch me wipe. Once I’m closed in, I drop to the toilet, staring at the wall in front of me.
Simon loves me.
It’s not the revelation it should be.
And that has me laughing again. At how freaking ridiculous I was to think I could avoid wanting to make Simon mine. That I thought I’d be able to have a baby with him and not want more.
I’m an idiot.
Finishing up, I flush the toilet and wash my hands, peeling away the remainder of my work clothes before wrapping on the robe hooked at the back of the door.
