Page 57 of Sharing Shane

“Just a little sore. In a good way,” she assured him when he frowned.

He glanced down at her pussy, on display between her spread legs, and his face tightened. “Damn,” he muttered hoarsely, and when he lifted his gaze to hers, she caught her breath at the blazing heat in his eyes.

“You have any idea how sexy you look right now?”

“Um.” She licked her lips, her eyes widening as his penis began to show definite signs of new life. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

He huffed out a laugh and rolled off the bed. “Stay put, I’ll bring you a washcloth.”

“Okay,” she said weakly and curled up on her side to watch him walk away.

The view was spectacular, from muscled calves to broad shoulders. Her gaze lingered on his butt, round and firm with cute little dimples just above it on either side of his spine, and despite her soreness felt a little glimmer of interest.

Then she moved and her pussy gave a distinct not happening, sister twinge that was echoed in the sore muscles of her thighs, and she sighed. The spirit was willing, but her body was down for the count, so she moved off the bed. She shucked what was left of the caftan off her shoulders, peeled back the duvet, and was just sliding between the cool, crisp sheets when he emerged from the bathroom.

He approached the bed, gloriously naked with a washcloth in his hand. “You settling in?”

“I got chilly,” she said, thrilled when he pulled back the covers and slid in beside her.

He sat next to her hip. “Spread your legs,” he said and she obeyed without thinking. She flinched when he placed the wet washcloth between her legs, then sighed with pleasure as the heat soaked in.

“Good?”

“Great,” she said, her eyes on his face. “Thanks.”

He grunted, and she laughed.

His gaze, which had been focused on her bare breasts, darted to her face. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said, lips twitching. “It’s just...you’re grunting again.”

“So?” he grunted, and she laughed again.

“What happened to the chatty guy who just fucked me?” she teased and was rewarded when his beard twitched in a smile.

“Sex makes me less grumpy,” he said and drew the washcloth away. He tossed it onto the floor beside the bed and sliding down under the covers, rolled onto his side to face her.

She winced. “Ew. Don’t leave that on the floor.”

“I’ll get it in a minute. I want to talk first.”

“More talking?” she teased, then sighed. “Do we have to? I want to take a nap.”

“It’s barely mid-morning,” he pointed out.

“So?” She snuggled into the pillow and closed her eyes. “I have the post-sex sleepies.”

“Post-sex sleepies?” he repeated, amusement clear in his tone. “That’s a thing?”

She opened one eye to frown at him. “It’s quiet time. Shush.”

He snorted. “You’re seriously going to go to sleep”?

“I will if you shut up,” she said and he laughed.

“Okay, take your nap. We’ll talk after.”

“Fine,” she muttered and closed her eye. “Pick the washcloth off the floor.”

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