Page 49 of Unforeseen Love

“Come for me, Sienna.”

She explodes around me, her tight pussy strangling my cock as she pulses relentlessly. The shockwaves of her release send me over the edge, and together, we fall into a void of oblivion.

I think I might have blacked out for a few seconds because my body is smothering hers when I come to my senses. Easing my weight off her, I pull out slowly and watch as my come follows, and I can’t help but reach between us and spread it over her swollen pink vulva.

When I peer up to look at her face, my breath catches, and something happens in my chest.

I’ve never seen her smile, not properly, but she is now, and the one gracing her lips is my undoing. Something deep inside cracks under the weight of it.

“Beautiful,” I say, reaching up and cupping her cheek.

And I’m glad she’s not big on smiling, because if this is anything to go by, I don’t want her sharing this part of her with anyone else but me.

I’m caught in a post-sex haze and have to shake my head to try and clear it, but it’s impossible when her presence enthrals me.

Forcing myself to move, I make my way into her bathroom and grab a flannel that’s neatly folded on a pile of towels, of course.

Holding it under the hot tap, I cover it in water before wringing the excess water off and walk back to Sienna, who hasn’t moved an inch, and a deep sense of pride works its way through me. I did that.

Kneeling on the bed, I bring the flannel to her core. Her hand shoots out and she stops my ascent.

“I’ll do that,” she says, her cheeks flooding with colour that has nothing to do with our sexcapades.

Shaking my head, I gently move her hand away. “Sienna, let me take care of you.” I keep my gaze focused on her eyes, and I see so many emotions cross her face.

Has no one ever taken care of her before?

The thought alone makes me mad, angry with myself for always being so crass with her, teasing and mocking her.

Fuck… deep down, has it always been her?

“You deserve to be worshipped. Not just in the throes of passion, but afterwards too.” Carefully, I wipe between her legs and clean her up. “You deserve to be treated like the queen you are.”

Her breath catches, and when I glance up from my ministrations, her teeth are biting down onto the corner of her bottom lip. I can tell she’s apprehensive. Hell, why wouldn’t she be? I haven’t given her much cause to think otherwise in that respect.

“Just trust me, okay?”

I scoot up the bed until my face is level with hers and lean closer, kissing the tip of her nose and then hop off the bed to discard the flannel in the laundry basket she has placed perfectly in the corner of her small bathroom.

When I return, she’s no longer in bed, and I hear the sound of the tap running in the main bathroom. I pad into the kitchen and glance at the clock. Fuck, it’s late––or early, whichever way you look at it––and we have to be up for work in a couple of hours.

Glancing in the fridge, I find a carton of fresh orange juice, pour us both a glass, and place one on her bedside table. I pull down the covers and sit back, resting against the headboard as I polish off the sweet-tart orange juice and then put it down beside me.

When she comes back, in only my T-shirt, my dick twitches, but it’s the surprise of seeing me in her bed which makes me smile.

“Thought you might be thirsty.” I tilt my head towards the glass.

She clears her throat and walks over and picks it up. “Hmm, thank you,” she says, taking a large sip before placing it back down.

I pat the space beside me, and she raises her eyebrows.

“Come on. I don’t bite. Not unless you want me to.”

This time, she rolls her eyes before climbing into bed, but I don’t miss the slight rise of her lips. Getting her to smile will be one of my new favourite pastimes.

Switching off the lamp beside me, I move lower and pull the cover over us.

“Make yourself comfortable, why don’t you?” she says, but there’s no venom in her words. If anything, she sounds playful, lighter even.

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