Free Pretty Hurts by Shyla Colt Page B

holds. In his crisp, white, button-down rolled up to his elbows he’s the picture of masculinity. I lower my trembling limbs, and he stands, bending down for a kiss. When our tongues tangle, I whimper as I taste myself. He moves back, and I follow him, sitting up. I run my hand down his chest and cup his cock through his pants. I stroke down his length, impressed and anxious to return the favor.
    “Now it’s your turn.” As I pop his top button and unbuckle his belt, he watches me through lowered lids and passion dark eyes. I admire the happy trail of dark hair as I push down his jeans and black boxers. His cock springs up to greet me; thick, long, and curved slightly to the right it makes my mouth water. I grip his base and run my thumb over the large vein that runs on the underside of his shaft. His cock twitches and I pump once, twice, and his broad red tip yields a white bead of pre-come. Swiping it with my thumb, I bring it to my lips and smear it on like lipstick.
    “So damn sexy.”
    I lick my lips, tasting his salty flavor. I slide off the table, tug his pants down around his ankles, and run my nails down his thighs. Gripping his base, I take him into my mouth, keeping our gazes connected as I take him deep and hollow my cheeks.
    “That’s it, darling. Just … like … that.”
    He thrusts forward slowly. When I hum, he slams home. I gag, but quickly adjust. He reaches down and grabs the hand I placed on his thigh; the intimate gesture turns me into a porn star. I take him so deep I swear I feel him in my chest. Humming and sucking I bring him over the edge, yelling my name. After taking everything he has to offer, I move back to sit on my heels to catch my breath. Our still connected fingers means more than any of the pleasure we’ve brought one another. I rest my head against his hip, and he cups my neck. This is so much more than two people who have a mutual attraction.
    ***
     

    Edgar
    I wake to the feel of a body beside me. Rolling onto my side, I study the sleeping form beside me. She’s stunning in the early morning light filtering through the window. Her skin all but glows. Relaxed in sleep, the tension around her eyes and mouth are gone. I skim my hand over her smooth head. Exhausted from our play in the workshop, I convinced her to stay. The problem is, now I don’t want her to go. It felt right drifting to sleep with her in my arms. Waking up with her is even better. I kiss my way down to her neck and nibble at her pulse point.
    “Mmm. Best way to wake up,” she murmurs groggily. I nuzzle her neck.
    “Good morning, darling.”
    I lay on my side, and she curls up, facing me with a slow, sleepy smile.
    “How are you feeling?” I ask, tracing her cheekbone with my finger.
    “More relaxed than I’ve been in a long time,” she replies.
    I check her face for any signs of regret. “So we’re good?”
    “More than good, Edgar.” She cups my face and pulls me to her. It’s the first time she’s initiated a kiss. When she snakes her tongue in my mouth, I moan as I deepen the kiss and grip her curvy hip, kneading her flesh. We separate and she sighs.
    “You want breakfast?” I ask.
    “Yes, but I think it’s my turn to cook.”
    “You won’t hear me protest. I like the thought of my woman cooking for me.”
    “Your woman?”
    “Yes.” I pull her to me and roll us over. Straddling her hips, I tickle her sides. Her laughter echoes in the room, light and musical.
    She kicks her legs. “I give. I give.”
    I plop down onto the bed beside her and place my hands under my head.
    “All right. You hosted last night, so you chill, shower, and by the time you come down breakfast should be close to being ready.” She slides out of bed, and I admire the way my shirt clings to her breasts and skims her upper thighs. I admire the bounce of her ass as she pads out of my room.
    I follow a few seconds later, rising and walking into the adjoining bathroom. I strip down, toss my clothes into the