Page 129 of The Last Guy On Earth

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Above me, he blows out a breath, like he needs a moment to calibrate to our new reality.

This is real. Finally.

“You feel incredible,” he whispers. Then he leans down to kiss me.

“So do you.”

“Gonna move now,” he says after another kiss.

“Kind of hoped you would.”

He braces his hands on the bed and experiments with a slow thrust. “You good?”

“So good,” I whisper.

He shivers. Then he fills me again.

Bit by bit, kiss by kiss, we pick up the pace, until he’s nailing my spot on every stroke, and I’m clutching his shoulders, hoping he never stops.

“Holy… I… stroke yourself,” he says through gritted teeth.

I grab my dick and give it a tug. I sink into the bed and look up into his straining face. It’s perfect.

“Clay,” he warns.

“Go. Take it.”

With a groan, he thrusts, and his whole body shakes. I feel the heat of his seed inside me, and that’s what finally takes me there—that and the expression on his face. Like he’s too overcome to breathe.

“Holy…” he says again. Then he pulls out and collapses on my chest.

“That was...”

“Wow.” He yawns, and I run my fingers through his hair.

“Shower?”

“Sure,” he slurs. “In a minute. Don’t want to go anywhere. Ever.”

I hold him so closely I can feel his heartbeat against mine.

Thirty minutes later I exit the bathroom, leaving Jethro in there toweling off his hair. In the bedroom I pick up my phone and find a text from my sister.

Kaitlyn

I’m afraid to come upstairs.

Yeah I brought someone home.

You think? The room was shaking.

“Oh shit.”

“Problem?” Jethro pads into the bedroom.

“Uh, no. My sister is texting me.”

Mom and Dad are on their way over. We’re supposed to have brunch?

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