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What did Corm mean bya real try? Do we stay married? Do I want to be married?

I roll on to my side and watch him. His broad chest is rising and falling, the movement spreading peace through me.

Propping myself on my elbow, I let my gaze kiss his face. Without the frown or the scowl, it’s even more beautiful.

The sheets are tangled over us haphazardly, and I lift the cover slightly to look at his impressive cock. I never considered the appendage visually attractive, but that was before I saw and experienced Cormac Quinn.

And a sample of his goods is not enough. I move to my knees, careful not to disturb him, and I peel the sheets away.

He makes a sound and throws his forearm over his face. His knee bends on the mattress. Giving me better access?

Is he up? I glance at his covered face, his lips slightly parted, his breathing still regular. And like a starved woman, I curl between his legs and without touching him, I lower my head and lick him from the base to the crown.

A rumble makes its way from deep in his throat, and his cock twitches. I wrap my hand around him and swipe my tongue around his tip. He tastes clean and sinful, and a bit like me. It’s an intoxicating palate.

I take him into my mouth and suck gently. I don’t rush things, just enjoying. The harder he grows, the more wet I get. It’s a heady feeling as the ache builds up in my core.

I glance up and startle when my eyes meet his hooded gaze. I smile around his girth, not letting his piercing eyes distract me. But they are.

They spur me forward and make me want to pause at the same time. And as if he could hear my thoughts, he cups my cheek gently and rasps, “Go on, baby. This is quite the beginning of the day.”

Fuck, his just-woken-up voice is sexy. And his encouragement does the trick, and I bob my head, sucking like this is my favorite ice cream.

My saliva is coating his skin, drooling down my chin. I never understood how this visual is appealing to men, but based on Corm’s deep humming, my state of choked up and messy doesn’t deter him.

He bucks his hips, getting his tip farther than I anticipated, and I fight my gag reflex. What I also fight is the growing need in my pussy. Corm grips my hair and takes over the rhythm.

I can’t breathe, I can’t see through my tears, and yet the only thing that reigns over me is my growing ache.

Greedily, I shove two of my fingers inside me, but I whimper around him because it’s not enough.

“Do you want to come, baby?”

I can’t talk, so I nod eagerly, half prepared for him to bully me into begging, or deciding it’s his turn or some other frustrating bullshit—that in hindsight always ends up being about me more than him—but he surprises me.

I yelp as he sits up, grabs me under my arms and before I blink, I’m on all fours with him behind me.

“Grab the headboard. This won’t be gentle.”

Fuck, his manhandling with his threat… No, no, his promise… has my center clenching.

He pushes his tip inside me, and I tense, not sure why. Like after barely fitting him into my mouth, I’m worried about his size. It makes no sense, since he stretched me deliciously several times tonight.

He snakes his hand to reach my nipple and tweaks it. “Relax, baby, let me in.”

Let me in.

I don’t know if it’s his words or his hands, but my pussy responds. I guess he was talking to her, anyway.

He fills me, and stills for a moment. My body tries to adjust to his intrusion, but I’m sore after the night we had.

Any thoughts of discomfort disappear when he moves in a frenzy. Good that he told me to grab the headboard, because I would have cracked my skull.

The bed bangs against the wall in the background of my hazy mind as an immense pleasure takes over, and I come, wave after wave of pleasure washing over me.

Corm follows immediately with a roar, but he doesn’t stop pounding me, prolonging my bliss into oblivion. I think I’m going to die. But then I’ve already been to heaven.

He collapses onto his back and pulls me to him. We pant, sweaty and spent.