Page 95 of The Voices are Back

All of those things combined into one of the best experiences I’d ever had.

Each time with her was like the first time all over again.

Her legs tightened around me, her fingernails raking down the length of my pecs, and her head went backward as I filled her in one long, steady thrust.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. “Why does that always feel so damn good?”

I had the same damn question.

But, unlike her, I was only able to form monosyllabic words when I was inside of her.

Words like “yes,” “fuck” and “shit” were a few of my favorites.

She rocked her hips, urging me to move despite the fact that I was close as hell.

It didn’t matter that I’d just had her this morning.

It also didn’t matter that I wanted to last longer than a minute and a half. Not when she felt so damn good.

Not to mention, she went off like a bottle rocket without me having to do a single damn thing to help her get there. Just with the feel of my cock inside of her alone, she was getting off. It made me feel like I was a million miles high.

It also worked when you were in a time crunch, and you sometimes erupted like a teenager, despite the fact that it’d been a decade and a half since you’d been one.

“I’m coming,” she breathed, her fingers latching on to my neck to help rock herself against me faster.

I could feel her fingers digging in deep, and I knew that there was no way in hell that she wouldn’t be leaving marks. Little half-moons, five of them on each side, at the base of my neck, right where the cord met my shoulders.

Then she was screaming.

Her pussy clamped around me. Her hands squeezed, and despite her small stature, she was able to make me light-headed with just the perfect placement of her hands.

I came, following directly behind her as if we’d choreographed the decision to both go at the same time beforehand.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I cursed, my eyes squeezing tightly shut.

Then I sagged against her, pinning her tightly to the wall.

She started to laugh, then I felt her reach behind me for something.

Seconds later, her fingers were working a lather through my hair.

I cracked one eye open, my eye practically millimeters away from hers, and grinned.

She reached out with her tongue, then poked me in the eye, causing me to pull back with a laugh.

Our shower went at lightning speed after that, mostly because I was at least ten minutes behind now.

I got out, leaving her just getting to the shaving her legs part. One of my favorite things to watch.

Sadly, I had to go.

After popping my head back into the shower for a quick, but still very unchaste kiss, I ran downstairs, grabbed the Tupperware of leftovers from dinner last night—curry chicken and rice—and all but ran out of the house.

I stopped to see Bowie, gave him a hug that he was surprisingly quite receptive of, and headed out.

I made it to the boat just in time to see the crew loading our people for the night onto the boat.

I gave my “first mate,” a chin lift and went upstairs to the tower.

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