Page 45 of Claiming His Bunny
I groan as I come, my cock twitching as I shoot rope after rope of cum inside her. The darkness is dispelled, forgotten.
After spending the last drop, I slump over Kayla’s body and kiss her neck. “For now, sleep. Sleep, my bunny.”
Chapter 26
Kayla
The sunlight filters throughthe bedroom window, shining straight into my face. With a groan, I roll over to my other side.
Stupid sun. Millions and millions of miles away, and it still has to bother me in my sleep. Can’t it go bug someone else?
I stretch out my arms and legs underneath the blanket, my muscles feeling oddly sore, like after a workout. I haven’t been working out, though, and it’s not like I move around much during the night, not even when I have those running-away-from-a-monster kind of dreams. But I wasn’t dreaming about monsters last night, was I?
Blushing, I recall the vivid dream I had. Seriously, I’ve never even had a hot dream before, and now? Ethan Bennett in my bed is all I dream about. How weird is that? I barely even know the guy, and now I dream about his cock inside me? His thick, delicious cock stretching me in the most incredible way?
And now I’m horny again. Horny and sweaty all over. I need a lighter blanket. I used to be cold every night, so I bought a thick, fluffy one, but now, I’m boiling alive under it. The damn sun isn’t helping things at all.
A check on my phone reveals it’s almost noon, much later than I usually wake up. It also explains why the sun is being so hyperactive.
I roll out of bed, smoothing my nightgown down my thighs. My red nightgown. Huh? I would have sworn I put on the green one last night, but I guess not.
I peel the nightgown off and head for the bathroom, frowning at the odd wetness between my thighs. It’s not blood. I haven’t had a proper period in months, not since I got my IUD, but I do occasionally have some spotting. Whatever my body is up to now, it has nothing to do with my cycle.
Still, my pussy is sticky and slightly sore, and dear fucking god, do I really need a yeast infection right now? Is having not one, but two crazy stalkers not enough to torment a girl? Can’t the universe cut me a break?
Peeing doesn’t hurt, so at least it’s not a urinary tract infection, thank fuck. I had that once, and it hurt like hell every time I went to the toilet. I can’t have that again. I don’t have a gynecologist here in Bluebell Springs yet, but I’m finding one first thing tomorrow.
Satisfied with my decision, I step into the shower. As streams of steaming hot water pelt my body, the soreness in my muscles eases into slight discomfort before tapering away completely. So does the strange feeling around my pussy. In fact, as I slide my hand between my pussy lips to wash myself, my arousal reawakens, reminding me of the strangely vivid dream I had.
Sex.
I haven’t had it in how long, three months? I hadn’t been sleeping with Nick even before he broke up with me, which was probably a good thing since he was messing around with someone else.
I must be sex-starved. That would explain the dreams.
Is being sex-starved a thing? It has to be a thing. Except I’d been without sex for much longer periods of time before, and I never felt like this. And I never really loved sex too much, anyway. It was never as good as romance novels made it out to be. I can achieve the same result on my own with much less hassle.
Yes, that must be it! I just need a release. If I masturbate every night before going to bed to take the edge off, surely I won’t be dreaming about being fucked by a man I’ve only met once.
I slide my fingers between my pussy lips again, giving in to the desire. I’m single, alone at home, and have an entire day off. No one can blame me for having a little fun in the shower.
As I circle my clit with my fingers, I try to recall the dream I had.
Large, warm hands holding me. A nimble tongue exploring every square inch of my body.
I raise a hand to touch my nipple, surprised by how sensitive it is. Did I touch myself while having that oddly vivid dream? Did I tug and twist my nipples as I dreamed of Ethan’s mouth and fingers on me? I must have, with how tender they are now, just like my clit and pussy.
I dip my fingers inside my pussy, moaning as I recall Ethan’s thick cock entering me. Such a realistic dream! Almost as if…
No. Shaking my head, I chase the disturbing thought away. I’m an ostrich. Ostriches don’t think about scary things. They hide their heads in the sand. Which is unfortunate because while your head is buried in the sand, anyone can come and touch the rest of your body. Anyone can whip out their cock and fuck you while you’re hiding from reality.
But that’s not what’s happening to me. It’s not. It’s ridiculous! I’d wake up if someone entered my bedroom, let alone if they tried to touch me. I’d wake up.
Wouldn’t I?
Even as I ponder the frightening options, my fingers keep moving, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. My orgasm doesn’t care about my conflicted thoughts and feelings. It barrels through me like a tidal wave of scalding hot lava, freezing me in place as my whole body convulses and my pussy pulsates around my fingers.
I think I moan out Ethan’s name. Again. What the fuck is happening to me?
