Page 115 of Bring Me To My Knees

Fucking Fine Ass Clark: Come for me, beauty. I’m right there with you.

Marley: Do you have your hand on your cock? Are you pumping it up and down? I wish I were there so I could lick the saltiness of your cum off the tip.

Fucking Fine Ass Clark: Fuck, baby.

I drop the phone as my orgasm hits, my body shaking in response. My phone rings just as I come crashing down from the tidal wave.

“Hello?” I say, breathless.

“Please tell me you came.” His deep voice sends a shiver through my body.

“That was so fucking hot,” I tell him.

“I was ten seconds away from coming over there,” he says, and I can tell he’s moving around in his bed.

“You’re telling me.”

“When you get out of that fucking cast, I plan on fucking you all over the place,” he promises.

“I’m counting on it,” I tell him.

He chuckles before sighing. “Get some sleep, beauty. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.”

I hang up the phone, rolling over to plug it into my charger and switch off the lamp.

* * *

The next morning, I wake up to the smell of bacon. My stomach rumbles in response, and I yawn, stretching out on the bed. That was the best sleep I’ve had in a while. I’m sure the orgasm before I feel asleep had nothing to do with it.

“Marley? Are you up?” Mitch asks, knocking on the door.

“Be out in a few,” I tell him.

“Do you need help?”

“No, Mitch. I’m fine,” I respond, rolling my eyes.

He’s going to be the death of me, I swear.

Groaning and trying to stretch, I sit up and scoot to the end of the bed. Someone is going to have to help me shower today, and I have a suspicion that Mitch isn’t going to be happy about it.

“Morning,” I grumble, hobbling into the kitchen.

Clark smirks at me, his gaze lingering on all the exposed parts of my skin, which makes goosebumps pop up everywhere.

“I’ve got some errands to run this morning. Do you need anything?” Mitch asks.

“I need someone to help me shower,” I say, and Clark chokes on the orange juice he’s drinking.

Mitch glares at him before turning to me.

“I’ll call Delaney.”

“Delaney isn’t going to drive all the way here to help me shower,” I say, walking over to sit in a chair at the table.

“Well, who’s going to do it then?”

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