Page 56 of Fumbled Into Love

“That’s my good girl,” he replies, plunging a finger so deep within me that I clutch the couch cushion to stabilize myself. His tongue matches the tempo of his fingers, and my orgasm creeps closer until it barrels into me like a freight train, the sensation a high I’ve never felt before with another person.

My hips droop, euphoria thrumming through my veins as my vision swims. My chest heaves as I lift my head to find Deon lounging between my thighs with a victorious grin.

I pocket the memory.

My legs are numb as I spread out on the couch, attempting to catch my breath after my first orgasm with a man.

I guess it’s only fair.

I gave him his first blowjob; he gave me my first man-made orgasm.

His smile is blinding as he sits up, padding away naked into his bedroom. He returns with shorts slung around his waist, and I silently thank him for deciding to stop.

I can barely move now. If we fucked there is no way I would be a functional human being for at least a week.

With a gentleness I’ve ever experienced, Deon cleans me up, wiping my skin with a warm washcloth.

This is the first time I’ve ever had any variety of aftercare. I don’t particularly like the way my heart clenches and flips when he touches me with such tenderness.

It’s always been an uneventful fuck followed by a quick goodbye.

He disappears once more, and I take that as my queue to leave. We fooled around, we cleaned up, and now we’re done, and he’s off to bed.

It shouldn’t sting. I shouldn’t let it sting.

It’s only sex.

But instead, Deon returns with clothing in his grip. He slides a t-shirt over my head and grabs a blanket, covering us both as his arms wrap around my shoulders to pull me against his chest.

He says nothing, and any words that form on my tongue fall short.

We irrevocably altered our relationship, and as he draws circles against my skin, It’s difficult to care or to question what’s going to happen now.

CHAPTER 14

“Put down a boundary just to cross it back and kiss you”

Lost Cause – Emily James

Nathalie

“Welcome to the post-Halloween lunch debrief,” Maren says as I slide into our unofficial but very official booth at Maren’s favorite Thai restaurant. “We havesomuch to talk about.”

“The regular, ladies?” Eric asks. He knows our orders by heart and is the greatest waiter ever.

“Add an extra plate of spring rolls,” Sawyer says, “I’m starving.”

He nods and disappears, and my stomach sinks.

Do I tell them I fooled around with Deon? Do I keepit to myself?

Deon and I haven’t spoken since what happened on the couch Saturday night. When I finally crawled out of my Hobbit hole yesterday at the respectable time of 1 P.M., Deon was gone, no sign of him but for a note and two pain pills he left on the counter.

Be back soon. Have to work out and run errands.

I’m not sure when he left the note or at what time he placed me into my bed, but when I woke, I was tucked into the sheets in the guest room and not curled against his chest on the couch. When I returned from dinner with my family, it was late, so I crawled back into bed and slipped into a deep slumber.

It’s only been twenty-four hours, but I miss him.

---