“Fingers,” he growled, sucking them into my mouth when I lifted them away from my slit.
One minute I was on my back, and the next, I was on my hands and knees, facing the door to the en suite bathroom.
“This is going to be hard and fast,” he warned as he pressed his length inside me, working back and forth until I had all of him.
Sure enough and true to his word, he took me hard and so fast I didn’t have a chance to brace before I came. The feelings stole my breath and energy, and I collapsed with my ass in the air and face on the bed, meaning each stroke into me felt like it went deeper and hit parts I wasn’t sure had been hit before.
On a deep thrust, he hit my cervix and stopped moving.
“Are you okay?” The words sounded like they’d been torn out of him.
“Keep going. God, just keep going.”
Holding my hips in place, he withdrew and plunged deep inside, not stopping until the next orgasm hit me, pulling him over the edge, too. I’d expected to be able to feel it when he came inside me, but instead, I felt the pulses in his cock, the ones that coincided with the changes to the sounds of his breathing.
Clamping my muscles down around him, I grinned when he moaned and his fingers tightened on my hips, likely leaving bruises I’d be able to see in the morning.
“Baby, you’ve got to let me go. I need—”
“No, I want to keep you inside me always.”
Wrapping his arm around my waist, he rolled us until he was on his back, with mine pressed tightly against his front, my legs hooked either side of his thighs. Shocking me, he withdrew and then pushed back inside, obviously not done, even after coming as hard as he had.
“Again?”
He chuckled, sweeping his hands up my stomach until he was cupping both of my breasts in his hands. “Not having anything between us hits differently. I hope you weren’t planning on getting much sleep.”
Yet again, he was true to his word. By the time we rolled out of bed the next morning, I could still feel him between my legs, and I’d only had about an hour of sleep and was dreading the day. Fortunately, I only had book club and work on a book to do while looking after Toby, so it wasn’t going to be too taxing a day.
I’d like to say I regretted not sleeping, but sleeping was for losers when you could be having Remy all night.
“I loved the new book,” Sadie said, smiling at us from the screen of the iPad next to the hot tub. “It’s obvious you’re getting some, Santana. Those sex scenes were on fire.”
I blushed and sank a little deeper into the water.
“Yeah, you little hooker!” Addy’s leg kicked me in the thigh, knocking me off the ledge we were sitting on.
One second I had the water at a comfortable level just under my chin, and the next, I was all the way under it with my ass touching the bottom. Spluttering, I stood up, coughing out the water that’d gone into my mouth and pushing my hair out of my face.
“Addy!” Sadie shouted. “What the hell?”
“I’m so sorry. I only meant to nudge her, but my leg slipped on the bottom of this damned tub, and I hit her harder than I intended to.” Hands joined mine pushing away the mass of hair stuck firmly to my face. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”
Wiping my eyes, I opened them to reassure her, but both women gasped and then screamed before I could.
“What’s that?” Sadie shrieked at the same time as Addy.
Looking around us for a bee or a monster, I jerked when a hand pulled my arm out in front of my body. Panicking that I had hickeys or something above the black material of my swimsuit, I tilted my head to look down when I caught something sparkling on my finger.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, not sure what I was seeing. “What the hell’s that?”
“It’s a ring, girl,” Sadie pointed out unnecessarily.
“I can see that,” I snapped, pulling my hand away from Addy’s so I could get a closer look at the band on my finger. “But what does it mean?”
Addy took a step away from me, her expression confused. “You mean you didn’t know you had it on your hand?”
Glaring at her before looking back down at it, I ground out, “No, I didn’t.”
There was silence from both of my friends, then Sadie said slowly, “So he didn’t ask you before he put it on there?”
“I don’t even know when he put it on there. Why wouldn’t he ask me?”
It wasn’t that he hadn’t asked me that was the problem. I was a firm believer each proposal was specific to the people involved. I’d always hated cliché ones, they just weren’t for me, even though they most likely suited the people who chose to do it that way.