19. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
David’s fingers gripped the back of Paige’s neck, keeping her bent over the back of the couch as he notched the head of his cock into the entrance of her pussy. He had never felt like this before, so feral and animalistic and he was trembling with need as he pushed into her tight warmth, slowly and steadily, until he bottomed out.
“How do you want it?” he growled, his voice low and rough like sandpaper, taking in her flushed face and hungry expression as she looked at him over her shoulder.
“I want it hard.”
“What Paige wants, Paige gets.”
He started powering into her, the slap of skin against skin music to his ears.
“Harder!”
Letting go of her neck, his hand slid down her back to take up residence on her left hip. With both hips now held in an iron grip, he started pulling her back to meet each of his forward thrusts in a punishing rhythm. “How’s this? Better?”
Paige reached up and grabbed the hand from where he had just parked it and relocated it between her legs, aligning his fingers over her clit.
“This is better,” she told him, sighing loudly when she established the rhythm she needed. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”
Her demanding attitude made him groan, partly because it turned him on, but mostly because it was surprising. “I think I’ll be able to figure it out on my own,” he said with a dark chuckle and then got serious about giving her what they both needed.
She sighed again and this time, it sounded like his name, which made him burn hotter than the fucking sun.
“David.”
He could feel the buildup to what felt like an imminent orgasm and he wanted it more than his next breath. He fell into a relentless rhythm, overwhelmed by the satin of her skin under his fingers and the tight heat of her inner walls as they milked him.
“David.”
This time, the cry of his name sent him over the edge and he came in a hard, pulsing rush that seemed to last forever, his heartbeat heavy, his breaths now matching hers—
“David.”
He blinked in the dark room, disoriented, panting like he’d been doing cardio. It took him several moments to realize he’d been dreaming and when he did, his disappointment was almost crushing. It had felt so real. Not to mention, really good.
He released a long, heavy breath. It wasn’t the first sex dream he’d had of Paige since that night in the hospital three weeks ago, but it was the first one to feature actual … sex. The others had been more like snippets of random, soft-core activity like making out or heavy groping, that left him slightly unsettled and hard as a rock, but nothing more.
This dream was something else entirely.
He felt an arm curl around him and a naked body press against his back, almost flinching at the contact. Ashley. He realized she’d obviously been the one saying his name all along, which had likely bled into his dream.
“You were dreaming,” she said.
He froze, wondering if he’d also been talking in his sleep, or given any indication that he’d been having a full-on fuck dream about his ex-wife, but slowly relaxed when he realized he obviously hadn’t; if that was the case, Ashley wouldn’t be pressing her tits into his back.
She kissed his shoulder. “Are you okay, baby?”
“I’m fine,” he lied.
She trailed her fingers over his chest in light circles. Under normal circumstances, he’d have taken the bait, but these weren’t normal circumstances and all she was doing was making him tense up, and not in a good way. The thought of having sex with her, while the dream of Paige was still so close to the surface—
Holy shit.
He quit breathing for a second. He’d been so distracted by the dream, that he hadn’t registered the outcome of it.
Slightly warm, damp boxer briefs? Check.
Feeling like his dick was covered in Vaseline? Check.
Concentrated, funky spunk smell? Check.
He’d had an honest-to-God wet dream. He was so shocked that he didn’t realize Ashley’s hand was at ground zero before it was too late.
“Oh, my God. Did you have a wet dream?” she asked as she gripped his cock.
To his surprise, she sounded more curious than anything and he nodded, even though she couldn’t really see him.
“Well, that’s what happens when you don’t have sex for three weeks,” she said, before adding, “The last time we went this long was right after I had Jacob.”
She was right. And three weeks probably should’ve seemed like a long time to him, but it hadn’t even been enough time for him to quit being angry with her. His anger had hardly even abated and as a result, his libido had completely gone underground—and not just for the week he’d had her sleeping on the couch. It didn’t matter what Ashley did, nor did it matter if she did it naked; his dick had been closed for business.
Until his wet dream starring Paige.
“I’m sorry about what happened with Paige and I’m going to be paying her hospital bill,” she said quietly, lightly rubbing him, obviously hoping to get a rise out of him. “I’m trying, David. What more do you want from me? Because this holding pattern we’re in sucks ass and I’m getting really tired of it.”
“I’m still pissed, Ash.”
She maneuvered so that she was resting her chin on his shoulder. “I miss you. I miss us. And it’s obvious you do, too,” she whispered, making it clear that she thought his wet dream was because of her.
There was no way in hell he was going to disavow her of that notion, especially with her holding his cock because she’d probably rip it off. When he didn’t say anything, she started putting more effort into her over-the-briefs hand job, but quickly gave up with an aggravated sigh when she didn’t yield any results.
Closed. For. Business.
Disentangling himself from her, he got up and took a shower.