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Our moans are simultaneous. I don’t think anything in the world tastes as good as us combined.
I lick at her and nip her flesh when she grows silent. She’s controlling this moment as much as I am, and I don’t have a problem with sharing the power for a little while.
Her knees come up, squeezing at my ears just a few seconds before I feel the pulse of her cunt against my tongue.
I don’t stop, but instead double my efforts. She’s out of control with pleasure, but it turns into too much quickly.
She pushes at my head, resorting to pulling my hair when I refuse to stop.
She knows what it takes, but it takes her another orgasm and several long minutes before she relaxes her legs and releases my hair.
I don’t let her linger on the ground. After zipping myself back up, I scoop her up and start the trip back to the house.
“What about the groceries?” she asks as we walk past the mess beside the truck.
“I’ll get them after I get you bathed and in bed.”
She tucks her face into my throat, and it makes me want to hold her like this forever. Lauren is quick to want to get fucked, but other displays of affection come very far and few between.
“Jesus fuck,” I mutter as I walk into the room and see the top two drawers of my dresser in a mess.
I nudge her face until she pulls it back and point at the damn thing.
“That’s why I hid the shit where you could find it. I’m tired of the fucking messes.”
She bites the inside of her cheek as she stares at the sock hanging over the edge of the second drawer.
“I’m messy.”
“And I’m going to make you scrub floors with a plug in your ass the size of a Coke can if it happens again.”
Chapter 40
Lauren
It’s still dark outside when I wake, and Angel doesn’t even stir in the bed when I climb out to head to the bathroom.
He kept his promise. I ran, and he caught me.
It can’t be this simple though, can it?
He left the things for me to find because I was messy?
I thought it was my walking papers, a way for him to tell me he was done.
It’s been impossible to fall asleep, impossible for me to let myself believe that there’s something real between us.
I’ve never depended on anyone since Liana. The letdown from that shaped my entire life from the rest of my horrible childhood with my grandmother to the profession I chose.
How can I possibly depend on him?
I’m terrified he’s going to change his mind, and I’ll be left alone.
I glance at my flat, lower belly. Well, not completely alone.
I’m fucking terrified of where my life is heading. That doesn’t mean it has to be a bad thing, but it’s impossible to shove down certain thoughts. Is there any way for me not to fuck up a child’s life? Can I be a good mother? Will the child grow up hating me? Hating him?
I scan my body, smiling at the marks left behind from our roll in the field earlier. I don’t know how long we can keep it up safely. That brings its own feelings of guilt because I don’t want to stop what we do. How fucking selfish is that?