Page 82 of About That Night

“Do you like that?” I ask, because it makes me excited to see that he clearly does. I want him to say it.

“I fucking love it, baby. Damn, you feel so good. You’re everything, Chastity. Everything.”

I’m not even sure what that means exactly, but the words, paired with his intense expression and the way he’s filling my pussy completely and totally, all my nerve endings firing, has me grabbing his shoulders. I need him to ground me, because I’m shattering again. This time, it literally feels like flying. Like I’ve left the earth and am zinging through space and time as a cry careens out from between my lips.

It’s so profound that when I breathe through the final notes of ecstasy, I just stare up at him. I’m done. I’m ruined. There is no way I can do this with another man. This is just me with Hank. It’s the way it is. It’s reality. My body, my heart, were made for him.

I desperately want to tell him how I feel. The words hover on my lips, but I don’t want to ruin his pleasure.

But then, to my utter shock, he slows his rhythm down and pulls nearly all the way out of me. “I love you,” he says. “You need to know that.”

Then he buries himself to the hilt with one aggressive thrust, exploding inside of me. I hang on, shocked with the intensity of his orgasm and how I can actually feel it throbbing along my inner walls. “I love you too.”

Because I do.

I think I’ve loved Hank my entire adult life. No man ever compares to him. I haven’t even bothered to try. I’ve been waiting for Hank to reenter my world.

And here he is. Inside of me.

And he loves me.

I’ve never felt a more profound sense of completion.

It isn’t until he pulls out that I realize it’s just him. Smooth flesh.

The condom seems to be missing.

I instinctively push on him, trying to sit up. There’s a hot rush of warmth between my legs, and when he shifts off of me with a sigh, I see it’s his come leaking back out of me. “Where’s the condom?” I ask in a high-pitched voice, feeling around on the bed between my legs.

“What?” Hank asks, sounding satisfied and without a single care in the entire world.

“The condom!” I grope between us, seeking out his cock. I feel all over it, not concerned at all what he might think of me manhandling his junk. This is no time for dignity. It’s just sticky skin. “Oh my God!” I wail. “It’s gone. It must have come off when we rolled over.”

“I didn’t even notice.” He’s staring at his dick like it's lying to him. “Is it still inside of you?”

“I don’t know! But look at this.” I gesture to his stuff just hanging around between my thighs. “Hank! This is how women get pregnant!”

“I kind of figured,” he says. “I did take middle school health class.”

He looks amused. Fucking amused. I smack him on the chest. Hard.

I leap out of bed, wanting to get vertical.

“Where are you going?”

“I want it all out of me. I’m trying to invoke gravity.”

He should look upset. He should be panicking, like I am. The fact that he isn’t makes me angry.

“Get it out of me!” The condom is definitely in there. Now that I’m standing and friction isn’t causing a mild numbness, I can feel it. Latex.

“Babe, I can’t get my come out of you. It just has to come out on its own, I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s going to be fine. What are the odds, right? One in thirty.”

Those odds actually send a cold chill through me. “The condom. I want you to get the condom out.”

“Oh.” He makes a face. “You sure you don’t want to do that yourself?”

“Get. It. Out. Now.”

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