Casper turned his curious eyes to his pop-pop next. “What’re you thankful for, Pop-Pop?”
Mr. Wilder tapped his pipe on the table before placing it into a wooden case. “I’m thankful I don’t gotta come up with sum’n’a say until dinner. Maybe you can help me.”
I completely tuned out Casper’s response as I felt Sebastian’s hand on my thigh.
“Have mercy,” I moaned.
Sebastian chuckled and wrapped the second duvet around us. We were literally cocooned in covers and blankets. The heaters we’d installed worked wonders, but on a windy night like this, we went all out. The awning had been extended too.
“You didn’t have to eat that much.”
“I couldn’t help myself.” I pulled up my legs and rested my head on his shoulder.
We’d showered. We’d changed into sweats. The dogs were downstairs inhaling dog-friendly leftovers, of which we had more in the fridge. Marlene had sent us home with an armful, and I kept thinking about it. Despite the pain.
The cold air felt really good to breathe in, though. It eased the ache in my stomach.
“I don’t think we can fuck tonight,” I said. “If anything else goes in, something is gonna come out.”
Sebastian shook with laughter and reached for his laptop on the side table. “I brought this out here for a reason.” He’d brought out a cigar and a glass of somethin’-somethin’ too. I was guessing dark rum. He’d offered me a glass, but I couldn’t even stomach a cup of coffee at this point. Or water. “Pick a movie or a show for us. All I’m gonna do right now is sit here, enjoy myself, and take care of my man.”
Damn, I did like the sound of that.
“I’m still sorry about thwarting our evenin’ filth plan.” I went to National Geographic and picked my latest drug, a reality series about some men and women who lived on a remote island off the coast of Alaska. Even Sebastian had enjoyed the first two episodes.
“There’s always tomorrow.” He lit his cigar with a few puffs before draping an arm around my shoulders. “To be honest, I’m fucking beat.”
I scooted down a bit, preferring his chest.
I easily got lost in the TV show, whereas Sebastian took the opportunity to savor his little drink and smoke hobby, check his phone, and—my favorite—draw his fingers through my hair.
Our first photo as a couple had received seventeen likes, I saw when he scrolled through his Instagram notifications. Marlene had taken the picture.
“We look hot together, darlin’,” I yawned. He had his arm around me in the photo, and he was kissing my cheek.
“You have the sexiest, most beautiful damn smile,” he murmured. “We should print this picture.”
“And put it on your wall downstairs,” I added.
He kissed the top of my head. “Definitely.”
Goddammit. He was the one who’d gotten me addicted to sleeping with his cock buried in me; he better step up to the plate and not roll away from me in the middle of the night.
“Sebastian…” I reached behind me and grabbed him by the hip to pull him toward me. “Fucker, wake up.”
He let out a sleepy sound and slipped an arm around my middle. Marginally better, but there was room for improvement.
I found his cock and gave it a couple slow strokes. It had just a hint of oil left, making it one of two kinds of perfect. With a tiny amount of oil, I got that sweet, intense burn as he forced himself in. The other kind of perfect was an excessive amount of oil or lube that allowed us to go rougher and more carelessly.
“Sebastian.”
“Mm—” He came to with a grumble and batted away my hand. “M’sorry, baby. C’mere.” He stroked his cock quickly a few times until he was sufficiently hard. Then he closed the distance and pushed inside me again. “There we go. Better?”
“Yeah…” I exhaled and let the sensations overtake me. Eyes closed, his chest pressed to my back, a mild burn flowing through me…and then his hand traveled down my stomach.
“Sleep,” he whispered.
Kinda difficult when he wrapped his fingers around my cock.
He didn’t do anything, the bastard.
Within seconds, his breathing evened out again.
Within minutes, he was fast asleep and had released my cock too.
I waited for the tiredness to claim me as well…and nothing. I was wide awake. Outside on the balcony, the harsh winds tried to grab on to the blankets we’d left behind on the sofa. Despite the threat of bad weather, the sky was clear and the moon painted the bedroom a pale blue color with dark, shadowy contrasts. Every now and then, the house creaked in places.
“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” I whispered to myself.
He was growing harder inside me. Whether it was simple biology or he was dreaming about something hot was irrelevant, ’cause either way, it was gonna be impossible not to take advantage. I was horny, dang it.