Page 138 of Butterfly Effect

Large spurts of lube add to the mix before she delves in. Gabe pores over the tender, overworked p-spot. Sweat pours down my back.

“The way your ass swallows the tip of this dick isobscene.” The last word gushes from her, erotic and awful. “Like those pretty sounds.”

Silky strokes crescendo into ravenous ones, sending me and my cock slobbering into the bedsheets. Every other breath hitches between my gruff, elongated inflections and lazy grunts.

She quakes and curls over me, puffing out a string of bad words while filling me to the hilt, leather and metal sandwiched between her hips and my bare ass. The pitch of her moan skips an octave with the next deep slam.

And just like that, I come, fierce and ruinous, like being set on fire, the load splattering every surface within a short distance.

Gabe whimpers my name, and every thread of my sanity unravels.

I shatter across the bed when she pulls out, wobbly knees no longer able to support me through the aftershocks. I’m numb and blind—no color but Gabe and no sensation except for her touch gathering me up like a pile of laundry before I lose consciousness.

I ebb in and out, experiencing a hazy angel armed with a hot, damp towel. The contact to every crook and cranny of my chest, my abs, my cock, my ass, is lush and needed. I black out when it stops and wake up to the thrumming of her heartbeat. Her naked hips and legs, shed of the harness, shift beneath me.

Weak and groggy, my head lifts from her skin.

Her fingers skate through my hair and down my back. I savor it with an indiscernible noise.

“You okay?”

A dopey chuckle sputters. “I think my mind exploded into bits and spilled out of my cock.”

She collects one of my hands and moves her lips over the knuckles, her whine regretful. “I was too rough, huh?”

“Far too rough.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs through a hum, her kisses like salve on open wounds. “Do you hate me?”

“My ass might tomorrow.”

We share a dazed giggle.

“But I could never.”

“Never? You hated my guts a couple months ago.”

“Untrue,” I rasp, nuzzling into her once more, the valley of her sternum a stunning fit for my cheek.

Her content sigh follows. “No?”

“No.” Air rustles through my nose. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah.”

Slumber threatens me with a sharp knife, but I manage to get the words out.

“I’ve never hated you.” I notch my chin on her chest, needing her to know. Needing her to see me. “I hated how much I wanted you. Hated how I couldn’t have you. I hated how much you hated me. But never you.”

Tawny eyes gazing back soften, fingertips brushing through the hair on either side of my lax head. “Wanna know my secret?”

“Yes.”

“I still kinda hate you.” Her lips purse in the corners, sly and joking, before turning serious. “I hate that you hide yourself. Hate that I had no idea how incredible you are. Hate that no one has appreciated your gentle heart and thoughtful mind. I’m so lucky to know all these amazing parts of you, Wade.” She pecks my nose. “I promise I’m not taking it for granted.”

My heart soars. It flies so fucking high.

This. I wanted this.

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