Page 43 of Keeping the Single Dad
He released my hair, but kept my hands locked high above my head. He slapped my ass lightly with his huge palm. A tingling burn ripped through my backside. It stung a bit, but it made the aching need in me sharpen. A divine mix of pain and pleasure. Blood coursed hot and excited through my veins. My whole body sang with pleasure. Part of me wanted to sass him, and wind him up, but I was so desperate to come my knees shuddered. This was too much. No more teasing or sparring. I needed him to put me out of my misery. Alex’s tight grip around my wrists forbade me from slipping my fingers to my throbbing core. Desperation gripped me.
“No. Please. I can’t do it anymore.”
Instantly, he released me. Twisting me to face him, he dropped to his knees.
“Spread your beautiful legs for me.”
My soul almost left my body at the first firm press of his hot tongue against my pulsing flesh. He held my weight up with his hands as my legs quivered, uncontrollably. I squirmed, and rocked back and forth against his mouth, desperate for relief. Just when I couldn’t take another moment, he grabbed my hips and filled me in one hot thrust. The instant he entered me, I shattered around his hardness.
An agonized cry left my lips, and the siren call of my orgasm finally claimed me in a pure, explosive release. My body clenched and gripped him greedily. I cried out and clawed his strong back and slippery shoulders. He kept working me in smooth thrusts, until every last wave of ecstasy coursed through me. My body sagged, and he caught me in his arms.
Drunk on my orgasm, I could barely stand. Alex guided me out of the shower and wrapped me in a warm soft towel. Intense fatigue washed over me as he carried me to my bedroom and laid me down on the bed. He pulled the duvet up over me. Blood still pounded through my body, and my skin tingled with heat and pleasure. He planted a kiss on my forehead. Water soaked his hair and dripped onto my bedroom floor.
Concern lit his eyes. He stroked my wet hair back from my face. “You rest now. Are you okay? Was it too much?”
“No. Not too much.” Fatigue pressed my soft muscles into the bed. “Never too much…”
Alex’s gentle smile and contemplative eyes lingered in the folds of my mind as sleep claimed me.
Chapter 22
Alexander
“Morning,sweetheart.”Iputa tray laden with toast and eggs onto the side table next to Lana’s bed.
She pushed back her unruly red hair behind her ear and reached for a glass of orange juice. “Nobody has ever made me breakfast.”
“Really?”
She propped pillows behind her back and sat up. A wry smile ghosted her lips. “I usually kick them out before they get a chance. No one stays over here. It’s one of my rules. I’ve never spent the night with anyone before.”
A little glow cheered me. She’d let me stay. Not that she’d put much forethought into the decision.
She stretched her slender legs and munched on her toast. “What are you doing this weekend?”
“I’ll take Brodie to the park. Little boys need airing out or they go stir crazy. What are your plans?”
She shrugged. “Not much.”
She nibbled her toast and fell silent. The same sadness crept into her eyes that had lingered last night. I was no stranger to loneliness. I knew it, intimately. The last thing I wanted was for Lana to feel lonely. I could invite her out with me and Brodie, but that felt like a leap too far.
Perhaps, it didn’t have to be a big thing. Brodie had met Lana at the school. For all he knew, Lana and I were just friends. It wasn’t as though Brodie hadn’t met friends of mine before. Lana wasn’t a girlfriend. She’d broken one of her rules by letting me stay. I could break mine and introduce her to Brodie as long as I kept things casual.
“You could come round to mine tonight? I’ll cook you dinner.”
The words were out of my mouth before I could mull them over properly.
She frowned and stared at me. An old ache burned between my shoulder blades. My heart pounded as I waited for her response. The obvious issue whispered in my mind. Maybe a young woman like Lana didn’t want to spend the day with a man nearly twice her age and his kid. Maybe it was a step too far for her, as well.?
She smoothed a hand over the duvet with studied disinterest. “What about your son?”
“He goes to bed around 8 pm. If you want to meet him, come a little earlier and I’ll tell him you’re my friend. If not, come after he’s gone to bed.”
There. I’d kick the ball back to her side of the pitch. She had the chance to back out if this was too much for her.
A small smile pulled at her lips. “A friend? Right. I suppose that sounds better than telling him I’m your fuck buddy.”
I couldn’t help my laugh. I’d never met anyone so direct. “We definitely don’t tell him that.” I held my hands up in mock surrender. “It’s fine if it’s too much. Come after he’s gone to bed. This doesn’t have to be a thing if you don’t want that—”
