Page 53 of Sweet Little Lies
It feels like I shoot forever – wave after spectacular wave of my orgasm hitting her all over her pelvis, ribs, hips and the flat of her stomach. It’s so fucking hot and dirty that I nearly feel the need to come again.
Finally, when I’ve emptied myself and there’s nothing left in me, I move my gaze to Mica’s face. She’s thrown her head back on the pillow with a soft plop and she’s wearing the sexiest, smuggest grin I’ve ever seen her wear.
Reaching for the tissue box, I start to hand her one and then think better of it and begin cleaning her off. When our eyes meet again, I say,
“That was seriously the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I throw the used tissue on the floor and lay down on my side, snuggling up to her warmth, moving her to fit her backside against me.
“Surely you’re lying. I’m sure hotter sex than that.”
Yes, I’ve had sex with many women throughout my college experience. But none of them have left me feeling like they are the only one that matters. None of them make me feel like I do for Mica. Not by a mile.
Whether it’s love or lust, I can’t pinpoint exactly, but it’s a feeling not unlike being in a warm bath, surrounded by steam and scented bubbles, that take hold of my body and elicit a sense of soothing calm peacefulness. I’ve never had this before.
Brushing her hair out of the way, I bury my nose in the crook of her neck.
I whisper softly and solemnly, hoping she’ll hear the truth in my words.
“You’re it for me, baby.”
