Page 39 of Big Balls
I cry out, my back bowing at the way he’s working my body over. I didn’t know sex could be this way, so thorough. So deep with satisfaction.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says as he fucks me even harder and faster than before. “Gorgeous when you come for me.”
And with that benediction, my mouth falls open and fireworks go off behind my eyes. Finally he leans over and rests his head against my chest.
I run my fingers through his sweaty hair. He smells amazing, and I want to lick him, except I’m also afraid I might not be able to move ever again.
“I think you’re trying to kill me.”
He lets out a laugh, and the light and happy sound does things to my heart that I’m not ready for. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t the preferred method for committing a murder.”
I feign shock. “You’ve never heard of being fucked to death? I might be breaking girl code by telling you, but as it turns out, it’s an actual thing.”
He kisses me along the line of my collarbone, and my breathing finally slows as he snuggles in beside me, his perfect, famous face pressed against my skin.
“Are you a big spoon or a little spoon, Zoe Deveraux?” His voice is a low rumble, replete with heavy satisfaction.
“Yes,” I murmur and wrap myself around him like a koala. Before I can even worry about whether to ask him to stay, I slide into sleep.
I wake up in the night expecting him to have left for his own bed. But at my stirring, he turns to me and captures my hands, guiding me to put another condom on him and then sink down onto him.
I throw my head back as he palms both of my breasts roughly, pinching my nipples with his thumbs. At the little sting of pain, I feel myself squeezing him tightly, and he swears and opens his eyes to stare at me with a wild, pained look.
“What are you doing to me?”
I lick my lips, feign a confidence that I don’t feel, and slide my body across his in a way designed purely for us to come again, quickly and as hard as possible.
I stare at him as I ride him, watching his hips thrust up into me, the way he grips my wrists so hard that I’m praying for bruises.
As the night softens into the morning, I curl up against him to sleep.
“This is good,” I murmur as he smooths my hair off of my cheek.
“Yeah, it really is.” He kisses me at my temple, and then sits up. “Thank you.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s my line.” I sigh against the pillow. “People need to know about this. You need some kind of warning label.”
He grins at me, and I smile right back at him because even though I’m sore and exhausted, he’s completely gorgeous when he’s happy like this.
It’s a privilege to get to see him this way, and I’d like to take credit for some of the happiness he’s wearing right now.
And I feel it too, long after he slips out the door of the guest room, presumably to shower and act like a dad.
I feel like I’ve been dickwrecked, left in a pile of exhausted debris by the force of intimately experiencing Ethan Alexander.
For the sake of my sanity, I know it has to be a one-time-only event, but it’s one that’s going to live forever in my mind.
Let’s face it. Nobody is going to live up to this for me. I have peaked already, and every other sexual experience in my life is going to be disappointing and bland.
I cuddle deeper under the blankets and reassure myself it was worth it.
13
Ethan
She’s making pancakes.Little tiny ones with chocolate chips, and then she puts a spoonful of sliced up strawberries on top. And a little shot of whipped cream, because who doesn’t want whipped cream?
Katy has eaten her entire bodyweight in pancakes by now. She’s got a little smear of chocolate along the side of her face, right where her dimple shows.
