Page 19 of Full Out Fiend

“Fuck. Shit. Yes.”

Even in reverse cowgirl, he makes sure to maintain our electric connection. His hands are all over. I sense his eyes on my backside. He runs one palm down my spine; digs his fingers into the thickness of my ass. He even teases his fingertips against my back door as I ride him, inspiring all sorts of ideas for what we could do if we make it to round four. Or five. Six? Seven? There’s no quantitative cap on the lust I feel in this moment. The limit does not exist.

I’m close—every cell in my body hums—and Fielding knows it, too. He spanks me hard before jacking up into me, his perfect dick and solid thigh muscle driving me higher and higher.

“There ya go, angel. Take it. Take it all. Ride me hard and grind that clit until your pussy gives me everything.”

I come undone a moment later.

My orgasm is an unstoppable freight train—the strength of a tsunami clashing with the g-forces of a rocket blasting off. My clit throbs with pleasure as my pussy pulses.

I come, and I keep coming. I’m soaking Fielding’s lap, but I have no control over my body’s reaction to this experience—over my visceral, primal reaction tohim.

I come harder than I’ve ever come in my life. I feel freer than I ever knew I could.

When I finally descend back to reality, he’s grunting through his own release, our bodies attuned and in sync yet again.

I can’t see his expression, but reverence and satisfaction thrum between us. He smooths his palms down either side of my spine, squeezing the tension in my shoulders as he repeats the pattern and massages my wrung-out muscles. When I’m sure he’s totally spent, I try to dismount, only to be caught under the armpits and dragged backward into his arms.

“Come here, you,” he demands playfully, tucking me in to the little-spoon position once again and tickling my neck with the stubble on his jaw.

He holds me. He kisses me. He pets me and caresses every inch of skin he can find, all the while whispering praise and adoration directly in my ear.

His words send tingles to my sated, thoroughly drained core. They don’t stop there. They wrap me in a shroud of comfort and peace. A few of them reach even deeper, singing into the fiber of my being and finding a home in the fabric of my soul.

I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’ll leave this night a different person. What’s happening between us is changing me—breaking me down and building me up—propelling me forward into a future so much brighter than anything I’ve ever imagined for myself.

Chapter 12

Fielding

Ispillmyloadin a daze. What a fucking wake-up call.

I’m shocked I even felt her stir beside me—I can fall asleep anywhere and sleep through anything. But as soon as she wiggled that ass into my crotch, it was game on.

Why things feel this fucking good with her defies all reason. But they do.

I kiss her closed eyelids, and she smiles. I don’t want to let her go. I don’t want this night to end. Even if we stayed up all damn night, it wouldn’t be enough.

I’m getting ahead of myself here. Typical. I don’t know how to half-ass anything. I only play full out.

But fuck. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this.

Except that’s not true. Because how could I forget? Her memory festers in my rotten, broken heart. Her smile is permanently etched in the darkest corners of my mind. I don’t let myself cling to those memories anymore. Most days I can convince myself Tori was never even here.

Right now, someoneishere. An angel who just woke me up for middle-of-the-night sex after a mind-blowing fuckfest. She’s everything in this moment. Everything I want and everything I need.

I was serious when I said I might need a monthly membership to the Daphne Fan Club. But no—monthly wouldn’t be nearly enough. I want an annual pass to that pussy.

It’s not just her needy cunt and perfect tits that have me in a trance. Everything she does thrills me. I get the impression she doesn’t even know how sexy, powerful, and attractive she is on the inside and out.

Within hours, she’s latched on to something inside me. I feel achingly vulnerable and indulgent with her: like it’s a privilege to be in her presence, and like I want her to see the real me. More than anything, I don’t want her to walk out the door tomorrow and forget I exist.

I can’t help but smile at the sleeping beauty in my arms. Her hair’s a mess—a gorgeous, dark halo fanning out around her face. She looks peaceful with her mouth slightly parted, her kissable lips turned up in the tiniest smile.

I fight back the urge to kiss her again. Or to wake her for round four. We’ve fucked more than we’ve slept so far tonight. She needs rest.

But damn—I hate the thought of wasting even a second of our limited time together.