I was out of breath and light-headed when he lifted me up and brought me farther onto the bed. Rolling onto his back, he pulled me down onto his cock so our hips ground into one another, and I gasped at the sensation of the new position. His hands rose to cup my breasts as I began to rock on him, taking my time to rebuild my energy and ability to breathe. One of my hands rested on his hard abdomen and trailed through the muscles while the other reached behind and cupped his full, round balls. I massaged them as I rocked and let my head fall back so my long hair brushed against his legs.
His groans grew louder, and I knew he was approaching a climax of his own. I sat up, putting both hands on his chest, and let myself rise up so only the tip of his cock was inside me before sliding back down again. After a few of those motions, he couldn’t take it anymore, and he grasped my hips to guide me in hard, fast, bouncing motions. A grumble from deep in his chest was followed by him sitting up and pushing me back down on the bed. I giggled at the way he moved me, seemingly without effort, and turned me over so I was on my knees. Facing away from him, I pushed my hips back and felt the tip of his cock at my opening.
One hand grasped my hip, and the other filled with my hair as he slammed his cock into me. I cried out in pleasure as he rocked into me, faster and harder until he was fucking me with everything he had. My voice mixed with his in staccato yelps, and he pulled me harder and tighter into him with every thrust. Yet again, I felt a wave of pleasure roiling through me, and I leaned hard into the pain and pleasure of his intensity, and my body responded by exploding into an earth-shattering orgasm. As it washed over me, he thrust one last time and roared as he came deeply inside my body. We stayed there for a moment, my body milking him as he emptied himself before he thrust into me again a few more times, finishing himself and collapsing into me. We curled into the bed, him spooning me as our hearts slowed and our breathing returned to normal.
35
Darren
I never noticed just how much of a rhythm and routine I had to my mornings until that Monday. Obviously, I had my pattern. I figure everybody did. Mine usually involved getting up, downing some coffee, and heading for a workout with Colby before breakfast on the way to the compound. On mornings when I got up early enough, I would eat before I went to the gym or warm up with a quick jog around the block. On mornings when I needed some extra sleep, the coffee was a reward for surviving the workout. But the rhythm was basically the same. That Monday morning, I discovered there was little predictability in waking up in a house with a toddler.
Before I even fully processed that I was still stretched out in Kelly’s bed rather than being home in my own, I heard a bright, cheerful giggle and felt something jump on my back. My grunt woke Kelly up, and when she moved over slightly, Willa dropped down into the space between us and cuddled up, stuffing her legs under the blankets. I looked over at Kelly, who gave me a sleepy smile.
“I didn’t realize two-year-olds got themselves out of bed,” I grumbled.
She laughed. “This is the first time she’s done it.”
Wrapping my arm around Willa, I gave her a kiss on top of her head.
“She just got out of sleeping in her crib a few months ago,” Kelly explained. “I wanted to keep her in longer, but she has been eager to have a big-girl bed. When I started planning to move here, I figured it would be easier to transition her over into a toddler bed then, rather than have so much change. Usually she is still asleep when I wake up, but I guess she is too excited to have you here this morning.”
The thought made my heart warm, and I was glad Kelly and I at least put basic clothes back on sometime in the middle of the night.
“Why don’t I let Quentin know we’ll be a little late getting to work this morning?” I asked. “Then we can make some breakfast.”
Kelly smiled and nodded. We had to go to work eventually, but I wanted to steal a little bit of extra time with her and my daughter. When I ended the call after leaving Quentin a message, Kelly and I got out of bed and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Willa sat in her highchair with little pieces of sliced strawberries on a plate in front of her, happily nibbling away while Kelly and I worked on finding a new rhythm together. It wasn’t as easy as I thought it was going to be. Apparently, we did great in bed, but in the kitchen, there were a lot of bumped elbows and shoulders. But we laughed our way through it, and I knew I would happily deal with the awkwardness for a while if it meant plenty more mornings spent together like this.