I stop what I’m doing. “Of me?”
She snorts. “No, I’m afraid you’re never going to get to my pussy with all that licking you’re doing everywhere else,” she cries, and she shoves my head toward her heat with an impatient hand.
“God, you’re so fucking bossy,” I say, but I slide down, wiggling until her thighs part so I can settle between them. I rock from side to side and push her open wide. “Give me some room,” I say. “I have broad shoulders.”
“I’m not a contortionist,” she huffs, but she pulls her legs farther apart. Her pussy is wet and glistening, and I can see the little piece of gold sticking out from between her folds where she has her hood pierced. And she has labia piercings, too. I have honestly never kissed a pussy with so much metal on it. But good God, I’m willing.
Since she’s giving me a hard time, I don’t even go easy on her. I suck her piercing into my mouth and give it a tug.
She cries out, and she rocks into my mouth. I hook the piercing with my thumb and very gently hold it out of the way, and then I suck her clit. She fists the sheets in her hands and closes her eyes and bites down on her lower lip.
She’s already close, so I slide two fingers into her heat and tip them up, making a come-hither motion against that spongy little spot inside her that I hope will make her go crazy. She stills. “So it does exist,” she breathes.
I laugh against her clit, and she growls.
“Do that again.”
I hum, sucking in gentle strokes, and suddenly, her body bows. She grabs my head and pushes my face into her pussy, and I lick and suck until I can barely take a breath, until I get every quiver from her arching body. I pull my fingers from inside her, and she watches as I stick them in my mouth and lick them clean. She’s so fucking wet that there’s a puddle under her on the sheets, and I love that I just did that to her. I wipe my face on the sheets and climb up her body until we’re nose to nose. I’m just going to rub noses with her because I just ate her out, but she takes my lips and kisses me solidly. Her tongue slides in my mouth, and she touches me in ways no one else ever has before.
“Fuck me,” she says. I look into her eyes. I want to correct her and tell her that I want to make love to her, but I know that will get me nowhere. She fists her hands in my hair, and I’ve just about had enough of that. I made her come buckets already, so I deserve to have a little of what I want. I take her hands in mine and anchor them against the bed sheets with my weight. She struggles for a moment, and then she whispers, “Okay.” She stills beneath my weight.
“My way,” I say.
She shivers. “All right.”
Her gaze lands on my chest, and she sees the butterfly. “When did you get that?” she asks.
“Today.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you and want to keep you close to my heart.”
“The butterfly is not broken.”
“Neither are you.”
Her breath escapes her in a huge rush, and tears fill her eyes. I don’t let her wipe them away. I hold on to her hands and press against her slick hole, nudging just barely inside.
“You’re so fucking tight,” I say, my voice guttural and harsh.
I kiss her, just because I can.
I push and meet resistance. “Relax and let me in.” She’s so fucking wet that she’s slippery. “Let me in, Friday,” I say.
She turns her head to look away from me.
I whisper in her ear. “You don’t have to tell me you love me back. I can wait. I’ll still love you no matter what.”
She whispers something, but her eyes are jammed shut and she has her head turned away from me.
“What did you say?” I stop pushing, stop trying to get inside her.
She tips her face up to mine. “I do,” she says quietly.
“You do what?” I whisper back. I can feel her heat wrapped all around me, but I’m not in fully. Will I ever be?
“I do love you,” she says. She tips her hips, her body relaxes, a smile breaks across her face, and I sink inside her to the hilt. “I do love you,” she says again. She wiggles her palms from under mine and takes my face in her hands. “I love you, Paul.”
I’m in her, balls deep, but I can’t move. I can just stare into her face because I’ve never seen such acceptance and trust in her green eyes. She’s usually so wary, but she’s open under me, allowing me inside her in every way possible. I let her hands go, and she wraps them around my neck. Her feet rest on the backs of my calves and she’s so open and so trusting.
“I’m in.”
She nods, and a tear slides down the side of her face toward her hairline. I catch it with my lips, the salty taste of her like the sweetest essence against my lips. “You’re in.”
Then I move. I slide out of her, her wetness slathering me, and then I push back in. Her hips tilt so she can meet me, and I sink all the way in. I sit up a little so I can look down between us, and I watch her take me inside. When I pull back, my dick is all creamy, and she feels so fucking good.
“I can’t last long.”
“Make love to me, Paul,” she says. And she looks into my eyes. I slide my arms under her shoulders and pull her to me, and then I do as she requested. I make love to her. I fuck her. I pound in and out of her, and her cries spur me on. She murmurs sweet words of love and affection in my ear, and I close my eyes and try to hold out a little longer, but she’s so fucking tight. It’s like a hot, silky, buttery glove wrapped around my dick, squeezing me so tightly.
She comes undone around me, her walls squeezing me even tighter, and I stop moving so I can ride it out. I feel her quake around me, and without even another push, I come inside her. I soak her walls, pushing so deep I’m afraid I’ll hurt her, but she just whispers, “More,” in my ear. “More, Paul.”
My dick is so sensitive that I have to stop moving. I look down at her and say the only thing that pops into my head. “Wow.” I can barely breathe.
She giggles, and I slide out of her. I wince because her sheath surrounds me until it doesn’t, and the wet friction makes the glide almost painful.
“You okay?” I ask.
She nods and buries her face in my chest, suddenly shy.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Just feeling kind of exposed. That was pretty intense.”
I fall onto my back and pull her forward to lie on my chest. “I’ve never had sex like that.”
My breaths are still ragged and so are hers. She rests her chin on her hand and draws a circle around my tender tattoo. “I really love this,” she says.
I don’t say what I want to say because I’m afraid she won’t say it back when she’s not in the throes of passion. I don’t tell her I love her.
“I meant it,” she suddenly blurts out.
I look down my nose at her. “Meant what?”
She hides her face, but I can hear her. “Everything I said. I meant it.”
“I know.” I chuckle and kiss her forehead. “I know you did.”
She would call me a pussy if she looked up and saw my eyes glistening the way they must be right now.
I know she meant it, and that’s what makes what I’m going to do her tomorrow all the more scary.
Friday
Paul wakes me up the next morning before the sun comes up. He’s tucked in behind me, and my butt is cradled by his thighs. He cups my breast, squeezing my nipple between his thumb and forefinger very gently while he kisses the back of my neck and across my shoulder.
“You awake?” he asks softly, lifting his lips for only a moment, and then he puts them back on my skin, right back where I want them.
“I am now.” I cover his hand with mine and show him that he can apply more pressure. He’s so careful. I guess it’s because I told him my boobs are tender.
I can feel him behind me. He’s hot, hard, and ready, so I lift my leg a little, giving him some room, and he slides inside me in one warm, wet, completely full stroke. He grunts and says, “So good,” right beside
my ear. It’s more moan and breath than talk, though. “I like waking up with you in my bed.”
I close my eyes and let him fuck me slowly, feeling him move in and out, the base of his stomach bumping my ass every time he fills me.
“God, Friday, I can’t last for shit when I’m inside you.”
His hand slides down my belly, and his fingers press insistently against my clit, and he rubs back and forth, his finger gently manipulating my piercing, putting just the right pressure on it.
He grabs on to my top leg and rolls me to my back without pulling out of me. He lifts my legs over his thighs and spreads me open wide. He rubs my pussy while he fucks me. He pulls my hand to my breasts and says, “Play with them so I can watch.” He sits up on his elbow, and his gaze falls to my boobs. He licks his lips. He doesn’t stop his slow slide inside or his nimble fingers that are carrying me higher and higher.
He smirks at me when I look into his eyes and rub my thumbs across my nipple piercings. It doesn’t take much. That’s enough to send me over. I come, trembles overtaking my body as he pushes me through the orgasm, his fingers quick and sure as he strums my clit. He wrings every last tremor from me, and then he lifts up, pushes my knee toward my chest and puts his weight on it, and he fucks me harder. I cry out, but his lips cover mine, and he whispers, “Shh.”
I try to hold it back, but I can’t. So, he keeps my mouth busy with his tongue as he pumps in and out, his movements suddenly frantic and quick.
“I’m going to come inside you.”
I nod. I have kept my eyes closed because the sensation of him moving inside me is more than I can bear. But when I open my eyes and find his boring into mine, my breath leaves me and a warm wash of pleasure takes me over the top. It’s nothing like the clitoral orgasm of moments before, but it’s pleasant and so fucking hot. And only then, when I am spent and lax beneath him, does he finally come.
“I’m coming,” he warns. “Coming inside you.” His eyes close, and he grunts, his dick pulsing inside me almost painfully, but it’s a good bite. Definitely not a bad one.
He lets my leg drop, falls onto my chest, and kisses my shoulder, the weight of him so welcome that I never want him to move. But he pulls back. I grab for him, and he dodges my hands, saying, “I’ll be right back.” He kisses my cheek and moves away. I see him slide on a pair of boxers, and he dashes into the bathroom. He comes back a minute later with a warm, wet washcloth, and he cleans me up. “Sit up just a little,” he says. He pulls one of his T-shirts over my head and then slides my panties on me. It’s like he’s dressing a doll, but I’m totally worthless for at least the next few minutes. “I like you fuck drunk,” he says with a grin.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask, my voice groggy and thick.
“Hayley will be up in a minute.”
I toss the covers back. “I should go to my room.”
He pulls the covers back over me and climbs in with me. “No,” he says. “Stay.”
I am too well worked to protest. I can barely think, much less complain. I roll over, and he tosses his leg over my bottom and pulls me against him. His fingers tickle up and down my back as I fall back asleep. Quiet comfort overtakes me, and I welcome it.
I feel a tap, tap, tap on the side of my nose and open my eyes to find blue eyes just like Paul’s staring into mine. “Hayley,” I say. I wipe my eyes. The sun is just barely up.
Paul sits up on his elbow and looks over me. “Go back to sleep, Hayley,” he says.
“The sun is shining,” she says.
“No, it’s not,” he tells her. Then he reaches over me, grabs her, and pulls her over my body. She lands between us and snuggles into the spot. She closes her eyes and yawns. “Go back to sleep,” he tells her again.
She rolls onto her side, facing me, and she looks at me for a second, her gaze curious but not at all sad or mad or any of the things I had been worried about. Her little-girl breaths are close enough that they fall on my chin and make me feel all warm and melty inside.
Paul’s toes tangle with mine, and he pulls my foot to rest between his down at the bottom of the bed. He’s touching me. He wants to touch me. I extend my hand toward his head, and he adjusts my palm to rest beneath his cheek and closes his eyes. There’s a slight smile on his face as he falls back asleep.
And there’s one on mine, too. It’s an almost giddy feeling of peacefulness. I never imagined peace to come with quite so much bemusement. But it has. And I like it.
###
I wake up to find a foot shoved hard against my forehead. I open my eyes and see that Paul has one shoved into his stomach, but he’s sleeping through it. Hayley has turned herself around and is facing the end of the bed.
I move slowly, trying not to wake her as I adjust her foot, but the minute I move, her head jerks up, and she says, “The sun is shining.”
Paul chuckles. His voice is nasally from sleep, and he grunts when Hayley’s knee pokes into his groin. “Be still,” he warns. He looks at me. “Sleeping with Hayley is like sleeping with an octopus wearing sneakers that has really knobby knees. I should have warned you.”
Hayley sits up, and she’s absolutely adorable with her hair sticking out in all sorts of directions. She looks like she’s been tumbled in a dryer. Her cheeks are pink, and her eyes are bright and shiny. She is all things beautiful and innocent, all wrapped in one adorable little package. I can’t help but wonder if I was ever that naive, that trusting.
Probably not.
“Can we go get waffles?” Hayley asks.
Paul looks at me and arches a brow. “Waffles?”
“With strawberries and chocolate chips and whipped cream.” She licks her lips. “Then we can go to the park.”
Paul’s eyes cloud for a moment, and I can’t help but wonder what that’s about. But Hayley starts to wiggle her feet in excitement, so I grab one of them and tickle her toes. She laughs and falls back onto the bed squealing.
“Waffles?” Paul asks. He plumps his pillow under his head and stares at me.
I nod. “Waffles.”
“The park?” he asks. He doesn’t look me in the eye when he says that, and it’s odd. Maybe he’s just distracted by Hayley being in bed with us? I don’t know.
“Sure.” I toss the covers off and stretch.
“You got panties with flowers on them,” Hayleys says, as she eyes the hip of my undies. She looks up at her dad. “Can I have some panties with flowers on them?” She pulls her pajama pants down at the waist and shows me hers. “Mine just have stripes.” I pull my shirt down over my hips.
“What did I tell you about showing your panties to people?” Paul asks.
She rolls her eyes at him. “Friday’s a girl,” she says.
I bite back my snort because Paul isn’t laughing. I look at him over my shoulder, his eyes meet mine, and they go hot. And so do I. “I know she’s a girl.” His eyes roam up and down my back. “Most definitely a girl.”
“We need to get you some waffles,” Hayley says to Paul. “Because you look hungry.” She says it very matter-of-factly, and I can’t keep from laughing this time.
Paul shoots me a look of warning, and I throw my hands up. “What?” I cry. “I can’t help it.”
But now that I’m sitting up, nausea hits me. I flop back onto the bed.
“Go get Friday a can of ginger ale,” Paul says to Hayley. “Her tummy hurts.”
Hayley runs out of the room and comes back with a cold can as Paul said. She opens it up, takes a sip, and hands it to me. She grins and wipes her hand across the back of her mouth.
“What did I tell you about drinking out of people’s drinks?”
“It’s just Friday,” she says. She blinks those blue eyes at me. I’m just Friday. I’m just Paul’s girlfriend, which makes me something serious in her life. It’s kind of scary, knowing I’m something to her. But in a good way, for the first time ever.
“Is your tummy feeling better?” she asks.
“Not yet.”
<
br /> She sits cross-legged in front of me. “Maybe you just need to go poop,” she says, looking at me very seriously.
Paul falls back on the bed, clutching his gut as he laughs. He laughs until he has tears rolling out of his eyes. He wipes them and goes to get me some crackers, laughing all the way down the hall.
Sam stops and pops his head into the room. I’m glad I’m wearing one of Paul’s really long T-shirts. Sam grins at me. “Maybe you should just give it a try,” he says, “just in case you need to poop.” I throw a pillow at his head. He ducks, and it flies over him. He mocks an affronted look. “You didn’t throw a pillow at Hayley.”
I grab her toe and tug it. “Because I like her.” She grins at me and looks smugly at Sam. He scrunches up his face like he’s upset.
“I like you, too,” Hayley says quietly when Sam steps out of the doorway.
I could get used to this family thing.
Paul comes back with a pack of crackers, opens them, and hands me one. I nibble the edge of it.
He leans down and kisses my cheek. “Just so you know,” he says softly, “I’ve never had a woman sleep in my bed when Hayley’s here before.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, and my belly flutters. I know this much about him.
“So no matter what, don’t break her heart, okay?” he asks softly. His blue eyes stare into mine. “You cuddled with her daddy and with her, so that makes you special. Keep that in mind, no matter what.”
There’s something almost ominous about his tone, but I have no idea what his reticence is about. I wish I did.
###
I sit down on a park bench so full of waffles that I will probably never move again. I might have to get Paul to carry me back to the apartment.
Hayley runs off to play, and Paul calls out to her, “Stay where I can see you!” She rolls her eyes at him, and he grunts. “I have a feeling I’m going to have to break her from that habit before she becomes a teenager.”
I laugh. “Good luck.”
He takes my hand and grips it tightly. He holds it so long that our palms get sweaty and stick together. I extricate mine and pull back. “Sometimes I feel like I can’t get close enough to you,” he says. He’s not looking at me. He’s looking toward where Hayley is climbing on the monkey bars.