Free Bound to be Dirty by Savanna Fox Page B

series of violent jerks that shattered the tension inside her.
    Crying out, she broke in waves of orgasm so intense they were both pleasure and pain.
    Their bodies shuddered together, and he slowly collapsed on top of her. They lay together, damp and heaving. Neither said a word.
    After a few minutes, Dax rose and went to the bathroom.
    Lily didn’t have the strength to sit up and reach for the covers. She curled onto her side in her normal sleeping position. It was the only normal thing about this night.
    While they’d been having sex, she’d let herself be caught in the sensations and tried to turn off her mind. Now she was too exhausted to think straight. What did all of this mean? He’d massaged her, sucked her toes, given her incredible orgasms. He’d spanked her and tied her up; he’d untied her, kissed her, and it had felt like they were truly making love. Was tonight a step toward rediscovering intimacy? Or was it a sex game, maybe something Dax had learned from another woman?
    The bed shifted under his weight. He raised the covers, tucked them around her, lay down on his side of the bed.
    She lay still in the darkness in a warm nest of covers. Did he think she was asleep? She almost was, her body heavy and limp, her breathing slow, her mind craving oblivion.
    He shifted onto his side and moved closer. She smelled his familiar scent, a fresh, outdoorsy one that now mingled with her lavender and their sweaty, earthy sex.
    They always used to drift off to sleep spooned together.
    Without her consciously intending to do it, she inched back toward him.
    He moved forward until his front curved around her back. His arm came around her waist.
    Like the old days. The good days. Drifting to sleep like this had made her feel so secure. So loved.
    Now she didn’t know how she felt about Dax, or how he felt about her. Was this the last night they’d fall asleep like this? She had told herself she was prepared for their marriage to break up, but that was before he’d come home. Before he’d kissed her and made love to her as if he meant it. Now she was more confused than ever.
    Dax’s hand brushed hers.
    She didn’t move. Except for the tears that tracked silently down her cheeks.
    * * *
    L ily struggled slowly from sleep. She felt almost as if she’d been drugged, and every single muscle ached, like she’d—
    Lying on her side, she tensed, remembering, and bit her lip. What had she been thinking? What had they been doing? What did it mean for their marriage?
    From behind her came a rustle as Dax shifted position. Was he awake? Hardly breathing, she held still.
    It was Christmas morning. The alarm clock on her bedside table read seven o’clock, an hour and a half later than she usually got up. She and Dax were expected at her parents’ house at one.
    They needed to talk. But not until they got through Christmas dinner.
    He hadn’t moved again, so with any luck he was still asleep, as exhausted as she was. If only he’d stay asleep until it was time to shower and leave. But Dax was normally an early riser too.
    Defer and avoid. She’d choose that strategy for a few more hours. Cautiously, she inched out of bed, and he didn’t stir. Though she desperately craved a shower, best to do it at the clinic. The place would be deserted today. She could work, think. Maybe go for a run first.
    In the walk-in closet, she slipped into her running clothes and packed a change of clothes in her gym bag, then she tiptoed through the silent bedroom. She made a quick stop in the kitchen to write a note.
    Gone to the clinic. Back by twelve.
    She paused, gripping the pen tightly. Dax would go to her parents’ with her, wouldn’t he, rather than force her to make some awkward explanation? He hated those formal meals with her folks grilling both of them, but they always went. This year was different, though. Their marriage might be ending. Last night’s