Page 130 of When We Were Us
Keeping up the quick pace of his hips, he rubs his thumb over the space we’re connected, up over my clit. His chest is tight, with shoulders and biceps flexing.
“Wren…Fuck,” he grits out.
Rolling his tongue back against his teeth, he spits, hot saliva hitting my clit. The heat of it and one more agonizing pass of his thumb, I come hard, exploding around him with a cry. I’m completely undone by the way he fucks me, the way he owns me.
Two more quick thrusts and Hank groans out my name, the force of his orgasm pushing him deeper. I can feel him pulsing inside me as he falls forward, our chests pressed together and hearts beating wildly. He kisses me long and hard and collapses half on me, not having enough room in the too-small bed.
“Jesus Christ, Wren,” he pants against my neck. “I’m so fucked for you. You’re goddamn perfect, babe.”
His words pierce me. They devour me, swallow me up, and drown me. I feel worshipped, protected, and adored by him. I’ve never loved hearing anything more because I feel exactly the same way.
Pressing a kiss to his temple, I cup his cheek and laugh, but it's ragged and cut up by how much I feel for him. “You’re pretty perfect yourself, Hayes.”
“Did I hurt you?” His voice is hoarse when he looks down the length of my body to where he’d been gripping my chest and thigh so tight, searching for any evidence of it.
I huff out a laugh and shake my head. “Not even close, but with that dicking down you just gaveme, I’ll be surprised if I can get upright in the morning.”
A low rumble vibrates my chest as he chuckles. “Dicking down?”
“Yeah, you know…” I say breathlessly as I grab what I can of his hips and try to thrust my pelvis with a light grunt, but he’s too heavy. So, I drop my head back on the pillow and squeeze his ass cheek.
He barks out a laugh and I dissolve into laughter, too. He lifts his head and presses a kiss to my forehead, our heartbeats and breath slowly evening out.
“Be right back,” he says with a kiss to the tip of my nose, and he lifts himself up off the bed.
He leaves the room and when the heat of his body is gone, I already miss it. He comes back with a warm washcloth and lifts my knee from where it collapsed onto the other one as I lay on my back.
Then, this incomparable man gently runs the cloth over me, cleaning me up. I watch him from where I’m propped up on the pillows. He is so gentle, so tender, and the moment is so intimate as he wipes me off that it makes my eyes tear up.
When he’s done, he leans forward, catches my eye, and presses a soft kiss to my clit. “Perfect,” he whispers.
Then, he’s crawling back up my body and moving to his side. He wraps me in his arms, dragging me with him so that my back is pressed along his front. He places soft kisses along my shoulder, and I let out a contented sigh.
We fall asleep together just like that, on my twin bed, and pressed close in the darkness of my childhood bedroom.
And he’s right.
It is perfect.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
wrenley
I waketo the weight of Hank’s leg thrown over mine. I’m warm with his arm around me, pressing me into the mattress like my very own human blanket. The sky outside is that sapphire-blue hue that hits just before sunrise. A delicious ache between my legs reminds me that last night was not a dream, and I press my thighs together with a sleepy smile.
Sometime around two, I woke up starving. So, we went down to the kitchen, made a plate of cheese and crackers, and brought it back upstairs. After we ate, Hank made good on his promise to fuck me slow and deep, and we finally fell back to sleep around three fifteen.
Somehow, we’ve both managed to sleep the rest of the night in this narrow bed. It’s just before seven, and I can feel the hard length of him pressing into my hip. I lay there, listening to his breathing and wishing I could turn to look at him, but I would definitely fall off the bed. So, I lay still and soak in the perfection of yesterday and last night, recalling all the beautiful and incredibly hot things he’d whispered to me all through the night.
Being with Hank was everything I had ever imagined and more. And God, I never knew sex could be so good. I’d heard people talk about it before and read about it in books, but sex in real life had always just been pretty blah for me. I could take it or leave it, honestly.
But with Hank, it was different. He was sweet and attentive, which I loved, but I was feral for Hank’s filthy words, too. And the spitting…Oh my God, the spitting. I’d thought him spitting whiskey into my mouth had been hot. But when he’d spit on my clit while fucking me? I’d never experienced anything like it, and I’d never come so fast or hard. I loved seeing Hank lose control above me, giving into baser instincts while we were connected so deeply, so intimately.
Hank takes a deep breath as he wakes, and his arms tighten around me.
“Morning,” I whisper into the quiet.
As I look over my shoulder, he lifts on his elbow, grips my chin, and presses a warm kiss to my lips.
