Page 53 of Four Weddings to Fall in Love
He pulls me against him so my head is resting on his shoulder.After having sex with someone I don’t know well, this moment is often awkward, but it doesn’t feel awkward now.Being lazy and naked in bed together with him…it’s comfortable.
“Any advice for next time?”he asks.
“You should let me suck your cock.I’m very good at it.”
His lips quirk, but his eyes darken.“I imagine you are.Everything you do to me…it feels wonderful.”
“I’m slutty and I’ve had lots of practice.”
It’s clear that Max has no idea how to respond.
“I like being slutty,” I say.“Enjoying myself.You can call me that too, you know.When we’re in bed together.”
The thought of this guy, who hid behind a shrub at Mirabel’s wedding in attempt to avoid my notice, calling me a slut—yeah, that turns me on.The fact that he’s rather proper and shy?It makes it even more gratifying when he says certain words.
“Noted.”He runs his fingers over my shoulder, then down to my inner thigh.
Is this man ready to go again?So quickly?
He laughs softly at my surprise.“I can’t perform this soon, but I can touch you.Go down on you.I’m more than happy to do so, if you’re interested.”
“I’m impressed by your devotion.”For some reason, I sound sarcastic, but I mean it honestly.
I move his hand between my legs, and he strokes his fingers through my folds.
I think tonight will pass in a haze of orgasms, and I, for one, am very much looking forward to that.
I watch as Max makes us coffee and breakfast.I’m used to morning afters, but not the kind where the guy takes care of me.He even hummed as he started the coffeemaker; I’m sure he wasn’t aware he was doing it.I was afraid to mention it, in case he stopped.
When I look at him now—in khakis, a polo shirt, and glasses—it’s hard to believe that this is the man who fucked me hard not half an hour ago.
I feel like I’m in on some delicious secret.He really can be quite naughty in bed.
I’m also amused that he adds a generous spoonful of sugar to his coffee.Apparently, that double-double he ordered at Tim Hortons wasn’t a hangover anomaly.
“I really thought you’d take your coffee black,” I say.
“Why?”He frowns.“It tastes better with milk and sugar, and it’s not as if I’m drinking ten cups of coffee a day.That would be a lot of sugar.”
“I don’t know.You seem like the kind of guy who’d refrain from eating things that taste good, or doing things that are fun.”
“That’s really your impression of me?”He opens the fridge.“After the past twenty-four hours, in which I ate my favorite pie with ice cream—”
“Strawberry-rhubarb is your favorite?I had no idea.”
“—and had a good deal of sex and wine.That was downright hedonistic of me.”
I crack up at Max using the word “hedonistic” to describe himself.
He shoots me a stern look that makes my panties wet, even if I’ve been awake for only an hour and have already had an orgasm.
I suspect he knows exactly what he’s doing.
He didn’t seem to know what he was doing the first night we spent together, but now, I feel like I judged him too harshly.He was flustered, and he was right when he told me later that a one-night stand didn’t play to his strengths.
Last night and this morning are proof of that.
And I can have more of that sex.He made it clear that a relationship is what he ultimately wants…unless he’s changed his mind about what he wants with me.
