Page 52 of Ripped

“Donnie, I’m going to come.”

“Hmm.” Yes, come for me, my darling.

“Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming.”

Scalding hot cum paints my taint, the back of my balls, so much hotter than the water sluicing over us, so much hotter than the fever burning inside me. My stomach clenches, my thighs tense, my whole body goes taut as the orgasm incinerates me. Pleasure courses through me, flooding my nerve endings until I feel nothing but bliss.

No more aches. No more pain. No more shivering in the cold. I smile and collapse into Connor, all those wonderful endorphins and oxytocin working their magic in my body.

I nuzzle Connor’s neck and float away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CONNOR

Sex was most definitely not what I had in mind when I got in the shower with Donnie. He wasn’t steady on his feet and the last thing I wanted was to add a concussion to his fever.

I kinda feel bad though, as I quickly soap him up and rinse him down. Did I just take advantage of him? He’s a little dazed but he doesn’t seem delirious or anything. I turn off the water and towel him off. He’s soft and languid as I help him into clean pajamas and settle him into the armchair. He grabs my hand before I can go change the sheets.

“Thank you, Connor.”

My heart somersaults and I press a kiss to his forehead. If he’s thanking me for the orgasm, well, I’m coming out of that one a winner too, baby.

I strip the bed down in record time and wrestle a fresh fitted sheet over the mattress. When I turn back to Donnie, he’s gazing at me with half-lidded eyes and a tiny grin on his lips.

I crouch down in front of him. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Feeling better after the shower?”

He nods and blinks slowly. My heart swells with so much affection and love for him, for this man who appeared out of nowhere, who helped hold me together when I was falling apart. He’s strong and capable, but gentle and unguarded at the same time. I’ve never met anyone like him before and I’m pretty sure I never will.

I press another kiss to his forehead. It still burns hot under my lips, but Donnie doesn’t look as wrecked as he did when I first found him. I get him back into bed, with fresh blankets tucked in around him.

I hold up another bottle of Gatorade and when he nods, I twist the cap off for him. “I’m gonna heat up something from the fridge.”

Donnie scowls. “There should be canned soup in the pantry.”

“Canned soup?” I over-exaggerate my surprise. “Since when do you eat canned soup?”

“Extenuating circumstances.”

I laugh. “Okay. I’ll go check. You’ll be okay up here?”

He smiles sleepily at me. “I’ll be fine.”

I leave him sipping his Gatorade and go downstairs to find exactly two cans of minestrone soup in the pantry. I pour them both into a pot to heat up on the stove.

I can’t cook nearly as well as Donnie can but I know the basics. Spaghetti with pasta sauce. Eggs, bacon, and toast. If Donnie has a slow cooker stashed around here somewhere, I can make chili from canned beans and tomatoes. I have no idea what to do with the eggplant, parsley, and cabbage I find in the fridge though.

There’s a sleeve of crackers in the pantry and I put them on the tray along with our bowls of soup to bring up to Donnie. He’s sitting exactly where I left him, propped up against the headboard, eyes closed, head lolling to one side. I set the tray down on the ottoman next to the armchair and gently shake Donnie awake.

He grimaces as he stretches his neck. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping. I’m sorry I took so long.” I bring him his bowl and make sure he’s got a good grip on it before I let go.

“Thank you. Smells amazing.”

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