Page 160 of Pucking Wild

“Oh my god,” she murmurs over and over again. Her body is shaking. She’s slicked in sweat.

My senses clear and I groan, sliding out of her ass.

She gasps, her cheeks clenching at my absence. I’m gentle as I pull the dildo free, tossing it down on the bed, glistening with her release. Her shaking intensifies and then I hear the soft sob.

I crawl over her leg and drop down to the bed at her side, stretching myself out. “Hey, hey…are you crying? Baby, come here.” Heart in my throat, I turn her face to look at me.

“I’m okay,” she whimpers. “Really, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

“You’re shivering.” I work quick, clicking the release on the handcuffs, freeing her hands.

She immediately drops them down, crying as she wraps herself up in me. Our arms and legs tangle until we’re pressed together from shoulder to toes.

“Talk to me,” I say, one hand brushing the curls back from her face. “Are you okay? Was that too much?”

She shakes her head, nuzzling her face against my chest. “I’m fine,” she says again. “That was just really intense.”

“It was too much,” I say, frustration at myself building.

“No,” she says quickly, looking up at me, her hand cupping my cheek. “No, it was perfect. Ryan, look at me.”

I look down, meeting her forest green gaze.

“It was perfect. I loved it. It was just a lot.”

“What do you need?”

“Just hold me for a minute,” she says, burying her face back against the sweat of my chest. “I’ll be alright in a minute.”

“Okay,” I say, my hand cupping the back of her head. At this angle, the floral fruitiness of her shampoo wafts into my nose. “This smell is going to haunt me,” I say, my hand smoothing down her mussed curls.

“My shampoo?”

“Mhmm.”

She nestles closer, trying to share my skin. “Why?”

“Because it’s locked in with that first memory I have of you,” I reply. “That kiss on beach day…I could smell your shampoo when we kissed. Like a tropical sunrise.”

She laughs. “A tropical sunrise?”

“Tease me, and I’ll pour your margarita in the pool,” I warn.

I feel her smile against my chest. “Are you really gonna make me a margarita?”

“Sure,” I reply, dropping my hand to rub up and down her back, relieved that the shivering has stopped. “That was the deal, right? I get tied up anal sex, you get a margarita. Even Steven.”

She laughs again, looking up at me. “Please don’t say ‘Even Steven’ while I’m wearing your cum in my ass.”

I smirk, brushing my fingers through her hair again. “Okie dokie, Smokie.”

She shakes her head. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” I reply, rolling on my back and pulling her with me, her hair spilling over my chest.

“No,” she says after a moment, her fatigue setting in as the last of her adrenaline leaves her body. “I really don’t.”

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