25. Bruce
CHAPTER 25
brUCE
I see Lilly flailing and can almost picture her tiny head hitting the floor—and the damage that would result.
No. Not on my watch. With adrenaline boosting the capabilities of my muscles to levels I didn’t think possible, I leap forward and manage to catch her in my arms just in time.
Even like this, I can tell the air has been knocked out of her—but this is nothing compared to the nightmare that could’ve been. In fact, when I think about it, my mom’s home ER doesn’t sound so frivolous anymore.
I’m building one. First thing tomorrow.
Catching her breath, Lilly blinks up at me, her green-tinged hazel eyes frightened and her eyebrows so animated that if they started speaking in morse code and proved to be independently sentient, I wouldn’t be surprised.
“You caught me,” she gasps.
“Barely.” And since I’m unsure whether she’ll tumble again if I set her on her feet, I carry her toward my bed instead. When she’s safely splayed on the mattress, I ask, “Are you okay?”
She nods.
“Are you on drugs?” I demand.
She blinks her eyelashes at me. “Drugs?”
I nod at Colossus—who’s already sleeping soundly, like his trainer didn’t just almost break her skull. “Bringing the dog here. Losing your balance. Drugs and alcohol are the more benign explanations that come to mind. As far as I know, you don’t have vertigo, or?—”
“I just tripped,” she says, looking anywhere but at me. “You were there, naked, so I stumbled.”
“Oh.” I realize that I’m still naked, and that this isn’t socially acceptable, especially since my cock is still?—
“The dog was missing you,” she says with gathering confidence. “He started whining, so I brought him here. If you’re going to fire?—”
“Thank you. I don’t like it when he’s sad.” Now that I know she’s isn’t about to have an overdose and is otherwise safe, I take in her outfit, or lack thereof, and immediately regret doing so because it makes my erection become almost painful in its intensity.
She locks eyes with me. “You do care.” As if to highlight her words, she wantonly scans my naked body as a blush spreads from her cheeks and deep into her nightie.
Why does she draw me in like that? It’s like she’s a cookie, and I’m my dog. Without meaning to, my lips form three words. “I do care.”
And that’s it. It’s like a dam is broken. She arches toward me, and I close the remaining distance in a blink. Then my mouth is devouring hers, and it’s as exquisite as before, only more raw and passionate.
But no. I pull away. “We can’t.”
Her lips part, all tempting and pink. “Why not?”
Where do I start? “You work for me.”
She scoffs. “I couldn’t care less.”
“There’s also?—”
“I know you want to.” She glances at my cock.
“Want? I need you, but?—”
She shakes her head vehemently. “No buts.”
Fuck it. I kiss her again, and not just her lips, but also her deliciously tiny neck, her dainty collarbone, her delicate shoulder… Breathing hard, I pull away to give her a chance to come to her senses—but she slithers out of her nightie instead.
“Wow,” I mutter reverently. “You’re gorgeous.”
“So are you,” she breathes, and then she does the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life—second only to her yoga poses and that leash training she put me through.
Getting on all fours, she crawls up the bed, near where my pillows are, her perky little ass as close to perfection as things can be outside of the realm of pure mathematics.
Does she realize what she’s doing? My heartbeat is pounding in my temples and my nostrils flare like those of a wild beast.
Over her shoulder, she murmurs, “Do you have protection?”
Nearly ripping a drawer from its socket, I snatch a condom out of the nightstand. “Are you sure about this?” My words are a low growl.
“Positive.” She slightly spreads her legs, giving me a glimpse of pink.
Fucking fuck. I’m going to explode. The next few seconds are blurry—probably because my cock is monopolizing all the blood, leaving little for my brain. Pulling her to me, I kiss my way down her body until I reach the pink pussy that I glimpsed, and then I lose myself in it, licking her folds like it’s my last meal.
She moans, spurring me on, and I slide a finger inside her to feel the velvety warmth that I’ve been dreaming about ever since we met.
Oh, shit. She feels better than in my dreams. All I want to do is get inside her—but I resist. I must have her come like this.
Her moans become more desperate.
Yes! I’m about to lose it.
Time to bring it home. Gathering the rapidly unraveling shreds of my self-control, I rest my tongue on the little bud of her clit and press on the same region with my finger from the inside.
Her moans turn to screams, and then her body trembles as her pussy squeezes around my finger.
Her orgasm unlocks something primal inside of me. Capturing her gaze, I pull out my finger and lick every drop of her from it.
“I want you inside,” she breathes as she tears open the condom wrapper and envelops my cock.
With something like a growl, I pick her up and set her the way I want—on all fours, just like when she crawled for me.
She reaches over, grabs my cock and guides it to the promised land as I grab her buttocks, hard.
It takes all my willpower to thrust slowly. Once. Twice. Then, when I feel her yielding, I piston into her with everything I’ve got.
“Yes!” she screams.
I almost come right then and there. But I don’t. Impossibly, I speed up, thrusting like our lives depend on me getting deeper and harder—like this is my reason for being.
She moan-screams, her hands balling the sheets.
I grunt in pleasure, hovering on the verge.
Her next moan sounds like she’s in pain, and then her pussy spasms all around me, unleashing a chain reaction that makes me burst with the force of an atomic bomb.
Panting, she falls on the bed, face down, her every muscle relaxed.
I settle next to her, trying to catch my breath.
A sleepy post-coital haze hits me hard. Suppressing a yawn, I hug Lilly as if she were a teddy bear—in large part to make sure she’s still here. Still real. To be certain that what’s just happened between us was not a repeat of my recurring Lilly-themed wet dream.
But no. She is extremely real. The scrumptious smell of her hair, the luxurious warmth of her skin—my sleeping brain is simply incapable of such exquisite detail.
I finally lose my fight against that yawn, and she echoes it, then melts into my arms as her breathing becomes slower and more even.
She’s asleep, is my last thought before I also pass out.