Page 96 of Myla: The Hawthornes

“Good,” he replied.

I didn’t have time to tell him I loved him because he thrust inside, and my orgasm hit me so hard that my entire body shook with it. I let out a noise I hadn’t even realized I could make.

“That’s it,” he praised. “Fuck, good girl. Jesus, Myla.”

I’d never felt anything like it. I’d had plenty of orgasms, both self-procured and with someone else, but I’d never had an orgasm likethat. Tears rolled down the sides of my face as I came back down. I opened my eyes to find him watching me with a mixture of awe and something else that I couldn’t pinpoint.

“Come here,” I whispered hoarsely, reaching for him.

I needed him closer. I needed his arms around me. The shelter of his body. It felt like my body was going to shatter into a thousand different pieces, and I’d never be able to find them again. Every part of me was trembling with aftershocks.

“Okay?” he whispered, falling forward until his forearms bracketed my head and the comfort of his big body pressed me to the bed.

“Yeah,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his back. “Better.”

“Good.”

He continued to thrust as the aftershocks from my orgasm made me jerk and gasp, but it wasn’t long before he gripped the inside of my thigh and pressed it wide as he came with a grunt. As he slowed to a gentle glide, his hand slid inward and his thumb carefully brushed over my clit and then down, pressing against the delicate skin that stretched around his cock.

I let out a shuddering breath as I clenched around him.

“Too sensitive?” he asked quietly, his lips moving against my jaw.

“A little.” I shuddered again as his thumb made another pass.

He pulled his hand away and licked it absentmindedly before wiping the side of it against his chest.

“Why do you do that?” I asked, letting out a small moan of complaint as he pulled out.

“Do what?” he asked, lying down on his side next to me.

Boneless, I let him arrange me next to him, our chests pressed together and one of my knees pressed between his. I wanted to be closer, as close as we could get.

“You know,” I said tiredly, licking my finger and wiping it against my chest the way he’d done it.

“What?” He stared at me in confusion.

“You lick your fingers and then wipe them on your chest. You did it twice.”

It took him a second before his expression cleared. “Oh.” He let out a little embarrassed laugh. “Want you on me.”

I just looked at him.

“Wanna taste it,” he said, leaning closer. “And I wanna smell it later.”

My mouth dropped open in surprise. “That’swhat you’re doing?”

“Why is that surprisin’?”

“You want to smell like sex?” I asked in disbelief.

“I wanna smell like your pussy,” he corrected.

I let out a surprised giggle.

“Smells good,” he whispered, a small smile playing on his lips.

“You’re nuts.”

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