Page 11 of Stuck with the Grump

He continued moving, groaning as he started pumping harder and faster. I felt the strong muscles in his back tense when he reached his own release. My pussy milked his cock as new waves of ecstasy rolled over me. The sensation of his orgasm was incredible.

He was incredible.

I moaned and held onto Clarke, nails still digging into his back as his cock jerked and spasmed. It was so fucking good, my mind was blank, lost in the pleasure emanating from my core.

Clarke collapsed against me as we came down from our sexual high, his breathing coming out in short gasps.

“That was… wow,” I said, my breathing slowly returning to normal.

He smiled as he set me down and stepped out of the shower. My legs were wobbly and I moved to sit down. He returned with a towel, grabbed me and kissed me, his hands running along my spine.

“Looks like we should probably get washed up,” he said, his gaze roaming over my body like he was craving more.

“We could do that,” I said with a nod, my breathing still shallow. “We should probably do that.”

Clarke laughed and leaned down to kiss me again, his fingers knotting in my hair and pulling my head back to deepen the kiss.

“You keep doing that and we are never going to leave this shower,” I said, taking a step back and reaching for the soap.

“What a shame that would be.”

With a roll of my eyes, I lathered shampoo into my hair, washing away the mud I was sure had gotten there while climbing on the fallen tree. Clarke watched me for a moment longer, my cheeks turning red, before he grabbed the shampoo and started cleaning up.

“You and I are going to have a lot to talk about,” he said.

“I know.” I rinsed off and pulled back the curtain to get out. “But I feel like talking about what just happened can wait until after we get to know each other.”

Clarke studied me for a moment, curiosity burning behind his lingering gaze before he nodded. “You’re right. How about we go make a post-sex snack and crawl back into bed to get to know each other better?”

“Absolutely.”

6

CLARKE

BeforeLeighhadcrawledinto my bed, she lit a candle. The scent of sandalwood mixed with the scent of vanilla wafting from her skin was an intoxicating mix. I leaned back into the pillows, one leg crossed over the other as I linked my hands behind my head.

“So,” I said as Leigh shifted on the bed beside me. “What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” She pulled up the flannel sheets to her neck and nestled deeper into the pillows. “What were you like as a child?”

“I don’t know. I like to think I was a pretty normal child. My mother or yours spent most of their days pulling us out of mud puddles or down from trees. I broke my arm once when I was six because your brother convinced me that if I had faith, trust, and pixie dust, I could fly.”

She laughed and looked at me. “Really? What was the pixie dust?”

“You know those little crackers with the fake cheese filling?”

“Yeah.”

“Tyson crushed those up and sprinkled them in my hair. I still wish I knew what my mother was thinking when we got to the emergency room and she was picking cheese dust from my head.”

Leigh grinned and shook her head. “I can’t believe you fell for that.”

“Yeah, well. Tyson was always a little shit. He usually convinced me to do the stupid things while he acted like an angel on the sidelines.”

“He did the same thing to me,” Leigh said, picking at a loose thread in the blankets. “We were at a wedding when I was young, maybe four or five, and my big brother decided that teaching his sister how to say fuck was a great idea.”

“He didn’t.”

---