I bite into his shoulder and he starts going harder, faster, and then he yanks out, grabs my hips, and flips me to my belly. It happens in one smooth seemingly choreographed move like I weigh nothing, and now he’s got my hips and is hauling me up to my knees.
My knees are not comfortable with these stupid springs, but I don’t care. Other parts of me are determined to let my knees do some sacrificing.
His hand slips between my legs and he begins performing magic on my clit again as his dick slides into me from behind.
He grabs my hair and pulls it to one side so he can bite the back of my neck, grunting as he drives into me over and over.
I let out a husky moan. God, this is beautiful.
He releases my hair, so he can grab my nipple.
I reach between my legs and put my hand to his and caress it as he keeps fucking me, as he keeps on rubbing me. I stretch to reach farther, and I feel the base of his cock as he slides in and out. I stroke his balls with my fingertips and that’s when his whole body goes tight and he lets out a sexy masculine “Ahhhh.” And it’s so hot that I’m coming too, with him, because his fingers speed up on my clit despite the fact that he’s coming.
Fireworks. Beautiful. I’m loose and filled with butterflies.
He rolls off and pulls me close. I feel his heart beating into my body, he’s that close to me.
I blow out breath and try to get my head together.
Sex in the basement on a sofa bed with Aiden Carmichael in Buffalo. Well, well, well.
This isn’t Carly 2.0. This was a wormhole to Carly 3.0 or something, because I didn’t know I had it in me. I didn’t know based on how I felt about him on Sunday morning that I could ever be here with him like this and here we are, Tuesday night, closer to Wednesday morning now, and he’s naked beside me. He’s just been in me and right now, he keeps kissing me, cuddling me.
And he’s good at all of that. Not selfish at it. At all.
He’s the best sex I’ve ever had. Bar none.
“Despite his skills and equipment, he won’t be worth the trouble…”
That’s what that girl said as a warning. She can’t be serious. I can think of a lot of trouble that I’d be willing to tolerate for sex like this.
“Are you his next victim or his last one?
I shake the bad thoughts off. I shake them off hard.
“Gotta get this condom dealt with, peaches,” he whispers against my forehead and plants a kiss there.
“There’s a bathroom back there,” I point. “Beside the laundry room. Be ready for the possibility you’ll run into Red or Kitty Forman in there.”
He kisses my nose and finds the condom wrapper on the floor and takes that with him.
It’s a cringey half bathroom. Wood paneling walls, avocado colored toilet and sink. There’s one of those Victorian toilet paper skirt dolls on the back of the toilet that has a creepy doll head and arms, then a big full Pepto Bismol-colored skirt on and the skirt is what’s holding the spare roll of toilet paper. A matching Kleenex cozy is beside it. He’s going to wonder if he’s been transported into the past.
Should I sleep down here? Should I go up to my old room?
I hear a flush and the water running and then he’s back.
“Get under the covers,” he orders and then he’s pulling me close, arranging the blankets over us.
Okay, then.
And then I fall asleep cuddling with him.
36
AIDEN
The smell of food wakes me up. Voices. I sit up. She’s not here. I roll my shoulders and arch my back. Yep. That bar across my back was not fun.