“How many years, Amy?”
Desperate for my release, I clench down on him and cry out, “Four or five! I don’t know! Before Abigail was born.”
“Good girl,” he grunts and starts pounding his cock inside me like he’s trying to pound me through the bed.
And then, quite suddenly, I’m tumbling over the edge of my release and shattering into a million pieces.
My fingers squeeze his fingers, aching to grab him. Aching to sink my nails into his skin.
Muscles locking up, my insides melt and I feel like I’m gushing all over him.
“Oh fuck,” he cries out in surprise. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he repeats over and over again as my pussy spasms, milking him.
Sucking him in.
A moment later he roars and I’m filled with the most delicious warmth.
Grinding his cock deep, he pours himself inside of me until he has nothing left to give. Then he collapses on top of me.
Crushed beneath his weight, I begin to struggle for air. Sensing my distress, he rolls off of me, giving me room to breathe.
Side by side, we stare up at the ceiling, panting as we catch our breath.
The euphoria of the orgasm begins to wear off. Reality comes crashing back in.
Did I really just do that?
I glance over at him.
Yep, I just did that.
Panicking, I start to jump up but he must have anticipated it. Grabbing me, he drags me close and wraps his arms around me like a vise.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks gruffly, trapping me against his side.
“I was going to return to my room…”
“This is your room now.”
“No buts, Amy,” he says, his arms tightening around me. “You made your choice. You’re mine now.”
It’s the pitter-patter of little feet slapping quietly against the hard wood floors of the hallway that wakes me out of a dead sleep. I don’t have anything in this house that would make that type of noise. No children, no pets.
Then again, the warm body draped across my chest begs to differ.
Her leg is so tightly wrapped around mine that I feel like I’ve been wrapped up by a boa constrictor. It’s a silky-smooth leg at that. The kind of leg that is graceful, yet has underlying muscle to it.
Fuck, just the thought of her leg is making my morning erection feel like a steel log sticking straight up.
The feet pass outside my door as they head towards the stairs. Amy isn’t stirring though, if anything she looks like she’s dead to the world. That tends to happen when I put a woman through her paces twice in one night.
I wanted to try for a third go of things this morning when we woke up, but it looks like that’s not going to happen.
Gently removing her head from my shoulder, I slide my leg out from under hers at the same moment.
The dawn light coming through the window gives me the opportunity to see how amazingly beautiful she is. She’s had a rough night, no doubt about that, but here, sleeping in my bed with her makeup messed up, hair everywhere, and a small bite mark on her shoulder from last night, she’s fucking gorgeous.
Fuck me. I’ve never seen a woman as attractive as she is right now in my life. I can only imagine how much better it will be when she is showered and fresh.
Fuck, just thinking about that keeps my dick hard. I really need to master the fucker before he stays like this for good.
Every part of her last night begged for me to take her, to take control. Some primal instinct reared its head inside of me. The bite on her shoulder was a small mark, but it’s something I know she will see in the mirror. I want her to see it.
Fuck, I want the world to see it. She’s mine now.
Grabbing a pair of jeans from the dresser and a t-shirt, I throw them on quickly and head out of the room to find the wayward imp.
Heading back the way she came, I see her little brown head bobbing up and down to some song she is singing to herself as she climbs up the stairs.
“Hey Abigail,” I say quietly to her.
Her head snaps up with a small gasp and she squeaks out, “Where’s my mommy? Is Johnathan here?”
Motioning for her to follow me, I say, “No, he went home last night, and your mother is in her bedroom. Want to see where it is?”
Nodding her head, she follows me as I lead her to my bedroom.
Opening the door quietly, I point to the sleeping beauty in my bed. “She had a rough night last night. I think we should let her get some good rest.”
Leading Abigail downstairs to the kitchen, I’m sitting her down at the table for some breakfast when her little lip starts to quiver. She looks like a little replica of Amy, except this little one is on the verge of tears.