Page 58 of The Devil's Deceit
“So?”
“So, I should have.”
“And which instruction manual is that in? It’s hard for women to orgasm during intercourse, and honestly, in my view, it takes away the enjoyment of it all. If it means that much to you, I’ll get on top next time, then I can grind my clit against you.”
Her honesty is so fucking refreshing. I tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear. “Where have you been my whole life?”
“About two hundred miles north.”
I chuckle. “Are you hungry yet? I don’t want you wasting away on me.”
She runs her gaze over my shoulders and chest, then drops it to my groin. Removing the condom, she ties a knot in it and sets it on the bedside table, then straddles me. She runs her finger along the thick vein on the underside of my dick, and when it jumps under her attention, she flutters her eyelashes.
“Oh, yeah. I’m starving.”
She drops her head and takes me in her mouth. The day the universe saw fit to put this woman in my path was a day I’ll be foreverthankful for.
I don’t deserve this kind of happiness, but as long as it lasts, I’m going to drink every drop of joy.
“I never eat in bed,” Grace says, taking a huge bite out of a cracker loaded with cheddar cheese. “Too many crumbs.” She brushes a bunch off her lap as if to make a point.
I dip a spoon into the sour cream and drop a dollop onto Grace’s left boob. “I like to eat in bed because doing this at the dinner table isn’t acceptable etiquette.” I lap up the cream, making sure to tongue her nipple in the process.
She makes this combo noise of a giggle and a gasp, and it’s fucking adorable. Usually, after sex, I either want to sleep, or escape slash get the woman out of my space as soon as possible. I’m not a cuddler, a talker, or someone who shares a picnic in bed with the woman he’s just banged. Yet with Grace, I keep watching for signs she wants to go home, and I have my persuasion speech all ready to encourage her to stay the night.
The truth is, I can’t think of anything I want more than to finish eating and snuggle under the covers with her. Okay, there may be a middle-of-the-night awakening, and in all likelihood a morning-sex-marathon, but just going to sleep with my arms around her sounds like a fucking dream I never want to wake up from.
“I’m stuffed.” She sets her plate on top of the tray and leans back against the pile of pillows, rubbing her stomach. “I couldn’t eat another thing.”
“Nothing?” I waggle my eyebrows and palm my semi. I don’t think it’s fully deflated all night.
“Not even if it was slathered in rocky road ice cream.” She giggles. “Not this time, anyway.”
“Ah, rocky road is a favorite?” I pretend to write in an invisible notebook. “Got it. I have you scheduled for rocky road-flavored penis at twelve o’clock tomorrow.”
The sound of her laughter fills my chest as I gather up the remains of the food, pile it onto the tray, and leave it outside the lift for the staff to collect. Grace is already buried underneath the covers when I return. It looks like she’s happy to stay, but I’m not making any assumptions.
“Did you want to… um…”
“Stay the night? Yes. My stomach is so bloated, there isn’t a chance that dress will fit me until I’ve digested a good portion of that food. If I try to move, I’ll be sick.”
Grinning, I slide under the covers with her. She backs into me and wriggles her arse against my dick, which, of course, hardens immediately. She does it again, and I groan.
“Keep rubbing me like that, and I don’t care how stuffed you are, you’re getting stuffed with my dick.”
“You know, you could sell copies of all that sweet talk you’ve got going on.”
“It’s a good sideline income, I guess.” I kiss her on the side of her neck. “I am brilliant at it.”
Her shoulders shake with laughter. “Christian?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you just love this part?”
“What part?”
“The part where the first time is out of the way and it didn’t go horribly wrong, and there’s this… comfortableness. Is that a word? I’m not sure, but if it isn’t, it should be. It’s like the tension that hovered in the air vanishes and you’re left with a warm fuzziness.”
