Page 84 of Bossy Hero

“That would be my absolute pleasure.” I dive in, readily getting lost in her supple lips and velvety tongue.

My hips gradually start pumping of their own accord. With each languid stroke, the fervent need to thrust fast and rough builds until I can’t hold back any longer.

The first hard stroke draws a guttural groan from the depths of my chest. By the third, my balls draw up, and the coil of pleasure tightens in my gut. Then four and five.Oh god.

Five fucking strokes.

Five.

When I realize what’s happening, I attempt to freeze my hips, but I can’t stop them.

Orit.

I’m too far gone. Like it or not, it’s happening.

No, no, no.

“Son of a bitch,” I grit out, my voice tight and raspy with reluctant pleasure.

As my spontaneous andextremelypremature release explodes out of me, I’m doused with equal amounts of embarrassment and euphoria.

Clearly realizing what’s transpired, Maddie’s soft body goes rigid, and she freezes, no longer bucking up against my pelvis. Her fingertips release my back from their previous death grip.

Shame, shame, and more shame. Buckets of it drench me, extinguishing all lingering traces of my orgasmic glow.

Not the first impression I wanted to make.

Not the hundredth impression either.

Maddie’s a kind woman, and I’m sure she won’t judge me too harshly, but fucking hell. This was our first time. It should have been magical for her. Not a letdown.

She gives my upper shoulder a soothing pat.Fuck. She’s literally patting me on the back for being a five-pump chump. This is mortifying. My cheeks warm, and it’s not from the twenty-second workout I just had.

“It’s okay,” she whispers.

“No, it’s not. I’m so sorry.” Gingerly, I remove my rapidly softening dick from her orgasm accelerator device. “Just give me a few minutes.” I flop onto my back, tossing my forearm over my shame-coated eyes.

“Well, I came pretty fast too. So we’re even.”

Sweet, silly woman.

My chest shakes with a silent laugh at her precious attempt to assuage my guilt.

She turns onto her side, dragging her fingertips across my pecs lovingly. “It’s honestly a compliment,” she offers, remaining true to her compassionate nature. “Like when someone scarfs down my meatloaf in record time. That means they enjoyed it.”

“You’re not a damn bicycle or a meatloaf, gorgeous.” I chuckle, daring to meet her eyes. “It’s just beensofucking long. Turns outthatmany years of nothing but my right hand has leftLittle Ala bit trigger-happy.”

Her nose pinches. “How many years are we talking about here?”

Pretty sure I blurted that little tidbit out earlier in a moment of sheer insanity. I mentally rewind our earlier conversation.Yep. I did. “Guess you didn’t hear me before?”

Her sapphire eyes flicker toward the ceiling. “We exchanged a lot of words tonight, Alan. You’ll have to forgive me if I missed some of them. I wasn’t exactly in a great place mentally.”

“That’s fair.” Twisting my frame to face her, I prop my cheek on one hand. With the other, I comb my fingers through her soft brown locks and whisper, “Maddie, I haven’t been able to take a woman to bed since the night I met you.”

No sense in hiding it. There’s literally nothing I wouldn’t tell her.

Except one thing. That’s a secret I’ll take to the grave.

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