Page 147 of Texting, Trouble & Touchdowns
Breathless. Boneless. Wrecked in the most beautiful fucking way.
I hold her like she’s breakable—not because she is, but because, I want her to feel taken care of right now. Worshipped. Like she’s more than a fantasy finally realized.
She is.
Her pulse flutters beneath my lips as I kiss the side of her neck. She smells like sex, skin, and the faintest trace of rose from whatever lotion she put on this morning.
I reach for the blanket beside us and drape it over her shoulders, shielding her from the cool air. My arms stay wrapped around her, and my hands stroke soft circles down her thighs and across her belly.
She’s still trembling slightly, little aftershocks that make her clutch at me, and I murmur against her skin.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper. “You did so fucking good for me. You always do, baby.”
Her fingers curl around my forearm. She doesn’t speak—just presses her cheek against my chest and exhales as if she’s been holding it in since takeoff.
I keep us like that for a while, letting her settle. Letting her feel safe.
But I can feel my cum dripping out of her, warm and slick against my thigh.
And she feels it too.
She shifts a little, making a soft, embarrassed sound. “It’s gonna . . . leak everywhere.”
I chuckle gently, brushing the hair back from her face. “No, it’s not.”
She blinks up at me, dazed and flushed. “What are you?—”
“I packed for this,” I murmur, already reaching for my bag.
I pull out the small, smooth plug—black silicone, discreet, elegant, and specifically chosen for her. Her eyes widen, cheeks pinking fast.
“Lucian . . .”
I dip my head, kissing her collarbone as I warm it between my hands. “It’s not just for fun,” I say softly. “You’re sore. You’re open. This will keep everything in while you rest. No pressure. Just let me take care of you.”
She stares at me for a second like she’s not sure whether to roll her eyes or fall harder.
Probably both.
But she nods.
Good girl.
“Lie back,” I tell her, and she does, reclining across the long seat with the blanket pooled around her waist.
I kiss her inner thigh, nuzzle the sensitive skin just above her knee, then slide two fingers inside her—slow and gentle. She gasps, still slick, still sensitive.
My cum leaks out around my fingers.
“See?” I murmur, rubbing it back inside her. “You’re still full of me.”
She moans softly, legs trembling again.
I press the plug in slowly, kissing her stomach as I go. It slips into place with a wet sound, and she whimpers, shifting on the seat.
“Too much?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. It’s . . . weirdly sweet.”
