Sometimes Love Just Happens

Literotic asexstories – Sometimes Love Just Happens by WarriorWoman,WarriorWoman
This is just the sex scene from a novel I am writing. I worked hard on it, and am very satisfied with how it turned out. Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Peter,” she sighed when his hand covered the apex at her thighs and pressed so that her butt settled against his crotch. She could clearly feel the pressure of his erection pressing at the small of her back and it sent a delicious little thrill through her.

“I know,” he murmured, propping himself up on an elbow and moving aside her hair with the other hand. He gently kissed the back of her neck. “But I don’t care. I want this.” His lips moved, brushed her shoulder, his teeth biting into the soft flesh and making her gasp. His palm made slow, circular motions over her pelvis, and her toes curled, then flexed at the sensation. She could feel his heart thudding against her back, wondered if he could hear hers. It was a jungle beat in her ears, and that warm, most secret part of her that men have dying to get back to since they slid from it in birth was pulsing to its rhythm.

Peter slipped his knee between her legs, slid it up until it pressed against her. Her heat enveloped him. He closed his eyes, pressed his face into the fragrant curve of her neck when her breath hitched, her back arched. His hand slid up her torso, brushed the underside of her full breasts. He’d always liked a woman with curves. They were so much softer, so much…warmer, somehow. There just seemed to be more to explore, to discover.

Slowly, inch by inch, he worked her night shirt up, slipped his hand beneath and cupped a naked breast, scrapping the nipple lightly. It budded into his palm, exquisitely sensitive. He shuddered as Eulalia gave a catching gasp, her fingers flexing where her hand lay fisted in front of her face.

She stared into the darkness, not blinking, awareness in every pore of her being. She didn’t want to breath, didn’t want to do anything that might detract from what Peter was doing to her. Every nerve ending was sizzling, every breath inhaled that subtle, masculine scent that was Peter. She lay tense, expectant, waiting for… she didn’t know what. Just waiting.

Peter moved his knee a fraction, rubbed it against her crotch, felt her wetness through her panties. He squeezed her breast, weighed it, then brushed a thumb over the nipple. She gasped, shifted away from him, shocked at the intensity, then settled back against him.

“Shh,” he whispered, nibbling her collarbone and massaging her breast. “Just close your eyes and feel.”

How could she do anything else. Her body was one throbbing nerve, bombarded by a hundred sensations. Except she wouldn’t close her eyes, couldn’t. Her vision was blurry around the edges now, as his knee rubbed continuously, but she couldn’t close them. Couldn’t.

He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, moved up to nibble at her earlobe, and pressed his knee harder into her. She groaned and shuddered, and the hand she had kept fisted by her face moved down to her thigh, where it gripped once, then lay on the bed, then gripped again. He nuzzled the soft skin behind her ear, flicked his tongue out to wet it and nip.

She cried out.

It was insanely arousing, his lips on her ear, and it caused her skin to flush hot then cold. She wanted to squirm, to make the wonderful feelings rising in her stop. There had to be an end. When would it end?

Her hands gripped her thigh again, biting into flesh. Her abdomen and chest tightened suddenly, and a swell of emotion pushed at the lips she had pressed closed. Her world exploded and a cry burst out. Her body convulsed; she pushed down on Peter’s knee and ground against it, gasping out in stunned delight as her vision went red, then faded to grey.

A helpless groan slipped out when the glorious feelings lessened, and she took several deep, gulping breaths. Her heart thundered beneath Peter’s hand, the knots in her stomach loosened marginally. “Oh my god,” she murmured, dazed, still staring at the wall. Peter chuckled and nuzzled her ear again. She ‘hmm’ed languidly and closed her eyes, bringing her hand up to touch his cheek.

“Peter,” she sighed, and turned in his arms, her lips searching for his. “Peter,” she murmured again, into his mouth, and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.

Peter moaned and thrust his hips against her. She shuddered and struggled to untangle their legs so she could dangle one over his hip, opening herself to him. His hands roamed down her back, stroking along her spine, scraping lightly up her ribs and then reaching down to grip her buttocks and pull her still closer to his heat.

They lay like this for a time, kissing leisurely, exploring each others mouths. After a while however, Peter’s restraint began to fray, and the gentle loving of Eulalia’s mouth was no longer enough. He craved the sweeter, more secret depths of her. Needed to be inside her.

His brain said anyone. Any body would do. But his heart said her. Her body. He wanted her.

He rolled her to her back, and her legs opened automatically so he could settle between them and push his bulge against the throbbing core of her femininity. She took a gasping breath and arched her back, thrusting her breasts into his face. Accepting the unexpected offer, he kissed her through her shirt, sucking until the fabric was dark from moisture and she was writhing beneath him. Slowly he began to undo each tiny button, pressing feather-light kisses to every creamy inch of skin that was exposed little by little. Her hands stroked his shoulders as he slowly undressed her, her gaze watching him closely as he discovered her body. Finally he slipped the material aside and gazed upon her naked breasts. His breath caught in his lungs. His chest tightened.

By now the moon had moved across the night sky and shone directly on the west side of the house. Moonbeams streamed through their window shades, casting the bed and the two figures on it in silver light. Eulalia’s skin glowed ethearally. His throat was corded with tension. His body screamed for her. He shook with the power of the desire that suddenly roared through him. His hands fisted on the lapels of her silk pajama top. He held himself completely still and struggled for control.

She felt him quaking in her arms, and it sent little tingles along her spine. After a moment, however, she realized that he was still staring at her breasts, that he hadn’t moved or said a word. She also discovered that his shoulders and back were rigid, and she could hear his labored breaths. She bit her lip in uncertainty and stilled her hands of their languid massaging.

“Peter?” she queried gently, and gasped in surprise as his gaze whipped up to hers. His eyes were blazing with an inner light, the skin on his face was pulled taut over the bones, his lips were a hard line beneath his nose. She held her breath and waited, like a rabbit hypnotized by a viper’s gaze, for his next move.

He growled and closed his eyes and said in a rough, gravelly-sounding voice, “You’re so beautiful. Your beauty steals my breath.” Then he lowered his lips to the dark, small crest of one of her breasts and kissed her softly.

The dread his stillness had evoked washed from her body in a rush of breath and she smiled, closing her eyes to savor his tender caresses. He nuzzled between the silky mounds, tongued the tiny beauty-mark on the underside of her left breast, and rubbed his nose playfully against one hard nipple. She smiled and brushed her hand over his hair briefly. She was never still, never silent. She didn’t lay placidly beneath him. Inexperienced she was, yes. Innocent, in the purest form of the word, absolutely. But her passionate nature would not allow her to simply lay there and not participate. Her hands roamed over him, touching everywhere they could reach, igniting little fires and moving on. Her legs rubbed continually against his, calves, feet, knees pressing and stroking and touching. She couldn’t stop touching him. Her breathing grew quicker, her hips started pushing up against Peters in desperation. Oh god she was desperate for him.

“Peter, please.” She murmured, threading her fingers through his hair and gripping his scalp tightly.

His body quivered again, and then his mouth turned hot. His teeth scraped over a nipple, and she cried out in shocked pleasure. Then he moved down her torso, nuzzling the underside of her breasts one last time before pressing open-mouthed kisses across her ribs, then working his way down to her navel, where his tongue delved into the perfect hollow of her belly-button. Everything’s perfect on her, he thought. I must be losing my mind.

His hands reached down and gripped her hips, then smoothed down her thighs. Wrapping his hands around her knees he spread her legs wide and continued his kisses down her body. He paused to press his face to her pubis, inhaling deeply and nuzzling gently. She gasped and twisted in his grasp. He held her still and focused his arousing ministrations to her inner thigh. First he kissed the right one, scraping his teeth down then up it, licking the smooth, satiny flesh, nipping at the back of her knee. She cried out mindlessly and panted his name. Then he moved to the left thigh, repeating the process. His hands slipped beneath her and gripped her buttocks. He squeezed and massaged them as he kissed every inch of her flesh. But when he kissed her where she burned and ached for him, she grew suddenly still and tugged at his hair.

“Petter, no.” She said on a husky breath. Clearing her throat she said it again. “No. I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t. You know-”

“Shhh,” he instructed, cutting off her nervous rush of words and smiling tenderly. “I know. And I understand.” He leaned forward to kiss her navel again. “Don’t fret my beauty.” Then he slid back up her body -yanking off his shirt and tossing it aside on the way- and took her mouth hungrily, thrusting his tongue past her full lips and ravishing her. His hands slipped inside her panties and cupped her bare bottom. She murmured her approval. He lay more heavily upon her, and began to rub his entire body against the length of hers. His chest hair abraided her sensitive nipples; his belly pressed to her belly; his pelvis ground slowly against the wet patch of her panties, and his hands never stopped their kneading of her smooth, round buttocks.

Eulalia couldn’t withstand the torture very long. Her blood was pounding in her head, her senses were reeling, her skin felt too tight to contain the sensations Peter was evoking. She moaned and arched against his hard body. Tearing her mouth away from his, she started tugging at his pants. “Peter, please. Oh god please. Do something!” Her breath was heaving in her lungs. She fought madly with his jeans button.

Chuckling, Peter stilled her hands and sipped at her lips. “Calm down. Breathe Eulalia. Breathe.” He took his own deep breath to get himself in check.

She took a gulping breath and tried to settle her nerves. Her body quivered like a bow string; sweat gleamed along her skin; her lips were red and swollen from his kisses. He gave her one last kiss before pulling back and crawling off the bed. He stood and looked at her, sweeping his dark gaze down her glowing body. Her hands fretted at the blankets. Her tongue darted out to lick nervously at her lips. Her nipples and areola stood out in sharp relief against her creamy skin. Long legs, he thought, sweeping his gaze back up her while he slowly rid himself of the rest of his clothing. Lush hips. Small waist, full, round breasts. He swallowed hard. Tremulous eyes. He held her gaze as he stepped out of his boxers, and managed to keep his lip from twitching in a smile when her gaze lowered to where his erection jutted proud and powerful from the dark delta of his pelvis and her eyes widened. Her mouth opened slightly and worked like a fishes. Then she simply closed her eyes, lay her head back against the pillows, and took several bracing breaths.

Oh dear lord, she thought. I wish I hadn’t of looked. She moaned inside her head. Then the bed shifted and dipped as Peter knelt between her spread legs. She didn’t dare open her eyes, but kept them squeezed tightly shut.

Peter allowed himself an amused smile. He knew he shouldn’t laugh in the face of her all-too-real fear, but he couldn’t help it. She was so damn adorable. Beautiful, stunning, breathtaking. But at that moment, trembling in the middle of his bed, bathed in a sea of moonlight, gripping the bedclothes in virginal terror, he thought she was the cutest woman ever alive. He bit the inside of his cheek to get himself under control once more -nerves were making him irrational- and reached out to remove her panties. Her breath shuddered out of her lungs as he gently slid them down her legs and off. She curled her toes into the sheets as that last barrier disappeared.

No going back now, she thought in a little burst of panic. Can’t stop now! She tried to keep her breathing in check as she struggled not to cry. Her body became rigid with the internal struggle. It’s going to hurt! she cried inside her mind. He’s going to rip into you and make you bleed! She ruthlessly swallowed a sob. She had to get her emotions under control.

Yes, it would hurt. Losing her virginity was inevitable. But better with someone she truly cared deeply about then to some rapist or other guy who caught her on a ‘hot’ day. And Peter would be gentle. She knew it. She trusted him.

Her breath whooshed out when she realized she’d been holding it, and her eyes popped open. Peter came instantly into focus and filled her sight.

He knelt where he had knelt before, his eyes steady on hers, his body motionless. He waited patiently as she struggled with herself. He prayed she’d be able to put aside her fear -he didn’t know if he could live much longer without having her- but he also prepared himself to put the breaks on. He would never force her. Nor would she ever let him. A half smile tilted his lips.

He finally broke the tense silence. “You okay baby?” His hands gently squeezed her calves. She blinked and couldn’t help herself from glancing down to where his manhood still stood out in all its male glory.

This time she didn’t look away as she said, “No.” Then she took a deep breath and cemented her resolve. “But I know you’ll make it okay.” Her gaze lifted to his and held. She let go of the bedclothes and held out her arms. She wanted this. She wanted him. To hell with everything else.

Peter didn’t hesitate. He went into her arms and settled once more upon her body. His mouth sought hers and he delved into her sweet intoxicating depths. Her nipples tingled when his chest hair once more brushed titillatingly along her skin. His penis pressed against the hot cove of her femininity. He felt her tense at the intimate contact, and he rocked his hips until her outer labia folds parted and he was cuddled by the soft flesh. He shuddered in pleasure and lifted his mouth from hers, searching her eyes. They were unfocused and at half mast. She panted, breathing deeply, and her fingers flexed on his biceps.

“Peter?” she queried softly.

He smiled and sipped at her lips, his hands massaging her scalp. “I’m just making certain you’re certain.”

She would have smiled, but the situation was too serious. She couldn’t make her facial muscles respond. Instead she furrowed her brows and watched his face closely as her fingers explored its features. Thick arching eyebrows above penetrating brown eyes, round cheeks, long nose, wide mouth, little chin cleft. Barely protruding adams apple. She took a deep breath and wiggled her body under his. He hissed out a breath and ground his teeth, and her eyes smiled though her mouth remained serious.

“I’m certain,” she finally said, her gaze holding his unwaveringly.

He lowered his brow to hers and nodded, letting out the expectant breath he had been holding.

His hands moved down her body leisurely, stroking softly along her sensitive skin. His mouth took hers again, gently, and he kissed her, long and deep, until her muscles turned to liquid and she was once again trembling beneath him with longing.

Peter then began to rock upon her slowly, his shaft sliding along her slick folds, the head brushing her clitoris every few seconds, so that each tiny caress was a jolt to her system. Her feet rubbed up and down his calves, and soon her hips began pushing upward in demand. Peter grimaced and finally reached a hand between their bodies to guide his throbbing penis to her opening. He concentrated on occupying her thoughts with his kisses, thrusting his tongue inside and stroking along the roof of her mouth in the motion of lovemaking. When the tip of his penis slipped inside her, he had to reign in the strong urge to possess completely, and he focused his thoughts on going slow.

He would push gently and then pull out, push gently and pull out again. Over and over he did this, until each push slid him deeper and deeper into her and he finally hit her hymen. She moaned against his vivacious mouth and her fingers scrapped his back. He groaned in the knowledge of what was to come, his brow furrowing for her impending pain and, slipping his hands beneath her bottom to lift her higher so he had a cleaner penetration, he pushed, hard, not stopping until he broke through. He didn’t pause at her muffled yelp, but kept pushing until he felt the resistance of her uterus. Finally, he ceased. He settled his weight on her and nipped her lips, opening his eyes and watching her face. It was scrunched up in discomfort, but she hadn’t shed any tears, and she wasn’t shoving at him to get him off or cursing him, so he figured it hadn’t hurt too badly.

“Lia,” he murmured, kneading her buttocks and sipping at the corners of her mouth.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she had to blink a few times to bring everything into focus. Peters face filled her vision, and she noted the sweat gleaming along his forehead and upper lip, and the line of concentration between his brows. She pulled her legs up to cup his hips, and felt him shift inside her.She gasped, her eyes flying wide in wonder.

“Peter,” she whispered, her hands stroking down his back to his butt. “That’s you.”

He couldn’t help it; he chuckled, which only succeeded in moving him in her again. He groaned, she gasped, and tightened her knees around his thighs.

“Are you okay?” He finally asked. He didn’t know about her, but he could feel the walls of her vagina pusling around his thick shaft. It was driving him crazy.

She nodded, and glanced down, a little disappointed she couldn’t see anything. She wanted to see what he looked like buried inside her. Her gaze came back to his, and she blushed when she noticed how intently he was watching her. “I’m fine Peter. Really. That barely hurt at all.” There was a note of surprise in the admission.

“Good.” was all he said, trying to refrain from moving in her yet.

As if reading his mind, she closed her eyes, spread her hands along the width of his back, and tightened her vaginal muscles.

He let out a strangled moan, and took quick, bracing breaths, ordering tightly, “Don’t do that! I’m trying to be still.”

Eulalia opened her eyes and studied the look of consternation on his face. She grinned and wiggled her butt. The motion caused them both to gasp. Peter lowered his forehead to her chest and squeezed her butt. She winced.

“Please Peter, don’t stop. It doesn’t hurt.” Not really, she added in her mind. Then she took the initiative and lifted her hips, sliding him deeper. She bit her lip in pleasure. Peter growled deep in his throat -there was no other word for the noise he made- and then lifted his head and stared into her eyes. Swallowing audibly, he carefully began to pull out of her, then slid back in all the way again, watching her every feature for any sign of pain. When she returned his gaze levelly, not flinching, not even blinking, but almost challenging him with her gray eyes, he lost it, and burying his face in her neck, he let his body take over.

He moved in her in long, slow strokes, sliding in all the way, then pulling out all the way, and sliding back in. Her breathing quickened, her hips started meeting his thrusts eagerly, and her mouth sought his hungrily. Gradually their movements sped up, and their breaths panted out, and then Peter began thrusting fast, hard, shorter strokes, but hard and fast enough to move the bed and cause Eulalia’s breasts to jiggle a little. He released her butt, gripped her thighs and pushed her legs as wide as he could push them. Then he took two gasping, hitching breaths and paused in his thrusting, raising his head and grimacing, pulling his torso back and coming in her in long gushes. He made a loud noise that was almost desperate in its release, and it rolled deep from his gut, his nails biting into the tender flesh of her labia folds as he pulled them away from his shaft so he could push in her deeper.

She watched his face in awe as he came, and shuddered with pleasure when she could actually feel his seed shooting into her. Finally, the orgasm ended and Peter lowered himself to her slowly -though the effort to be gentle made his arms shake. Gasping for breath, his heart pounding against hers, his body quivering from his release, he buried his face in the fragrance of her neck. Her arms encircled him and her legs closed so she could hold him to her tightly, possessively. She rubbed her cheek against his and murmured his name over and over. After a couple of minutes he seemed to come back to himself.

Shifting slightly, he lifted his head -though it felt like a sack of bricks- and looked down at Eulalia. Her eyes were sheened with tears, and she was smiling tenderly. She lifted her hands and framed his face. “Oh Peter, that was wonderful. You were… I felt… How do you feel?” She couldn’t yet put into words what it had felt like to have Peter lose control like that, at least, not in any way that wouldn’t sound mushy or like a confession of love. She wasn’t certain how he would react.

He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, but his throat was bone-dry, so he just groaned instead. She laughed, a low, delighted sound that warmed him to his bones.

“I guess three years of celibacy will do that to you.” Her eyes sparkled with humor now, and something tender. And suddenly Peter realized…

“You didn’t come, did you?”

She shrugged. “There will be other times. I hadn’t really expected to my first time anyway.” Then she grinned. “But you better make it up to me tomorrow.”

He smiled and nodded and started to roll off her. She gasped and tightened her legs and arms around him. “No,” she ordered. “Don’t move. It hurts. Just stay there… for as long as you can, please?”

He closed his eyes and nodded, settling back on top of her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rough with you, I-”

“Shh,” she whispered, cutting him off with a kiss. “It’s fine.”

As they lay together, their bodies still entwined, she stroked her fingers leisurely along his spine, murmuring a song in Apache and lulling him to sleep. She listened to his even, deep breathing as she slowly nodded off, but didn’t hear the first rumble of thunder in the distance before sleep overtook her.

Nuzzling closer to the warmth, Eulalia slowly woke from a dream in which she was enveloped by a fire that blazed into the heavens. The orange flames licked harmlessly at her naked skin. Her hair glowed brightly, it in itself a golden flame with flashes of copper woven throughout. She sighed as the fire stroked along her tingling skin, and her lashes fluttered open. It took a moment for her eyes to focus, but when they did she was starring at Peter’s chest. She blinked a few times at the dark little hairs around his nipples, then the rest of her senses awakened and she gasped. Bracing herself, she lifted her head and looked at Peter’s face. His eyes were open, clear of sleep, and wickedly amused. He grinned as soon as her gaze met his, and his hands squeezed her bottom. She continued to stare, confused. But she became aware -very aware- of her position.

Sometime in the night he must have shifted their bodies, because she was now sprawled atop Peter, her legs spread wide on either side of his hips, her breasts flattened against his chest. His hands rested lightly atop her buttocks, one finger idly stroking the small of her back. It caused goosebumps to rise along her skin.

She licked her lips and brought a hand up to rub at her eyes. She tried to slide off Peter, but his hands gripped her butt and held her in place. She raised her brows at him questioningly. He wiggled his, and slid his hands down the curve of her butt to the warm, soft cove of her femininity. His fingers stroked over the labia folds, causing her to shiver. Her eyes widened as she read the intent in his gaze. Before she could say anything, he bent his head and captured her mouth in a searing kiss that had her blood heating in seconds.

Her hands gripped his shoulders, and she began to rub her breasts against his hairy chest. Her nipples tingled and tightened into hard aching nubs, and she moaned as her desire grew. She rubbed her pelvis against his, and he groaned. His fingers pulled apart her folds and rubbed along the top of her sex, lubricating them with her arousal. Then he slipped one digit, then two, inside her. She moaned and pushed her hips against his hand. He worked her slowly, slowly, his other hand kneading a buttock.

When her movements grew demanding, he decided she was ready, and removed his fingers.Gripping her hips, he shifted her over his penis and then, lifting his hips and pushing hers down, penetrated her again. Her tongue, which had been attacking his, stilled, and her eyes opened. He watched her face as he wiggled his hips. Her eyes crossed and a breath caught in her throat. She buried her face in his neck and squeezed his shoulders until nail bit into flesh.

“Does it hurt?” His hands massaged her butt and he pressed gentle kisses to her temple. She shook her head and moved her hips a little, then moaned deeply. The vibration made him smile.

“Good,” he murmured. “Cause I want you terribly.” Without waiting for her reply -should she have one- he moved in her, guiding her excited movements, thrusting deeply. Her breath began to hitch, and her fingers dug deeper and deeper into his shoulders. He winced and murmured against her temple. She loosened them enough to move her hands so she could grip the pillow beneath his head.

The heat was building, in both of them, and he felt her muscles clutching tighter and tighter. Her breaths came faster and shorter, and she groaned out his name, then bit his shoulder. He gasped in startled delight, and she dabbed at the area with her tongue. He groaned and quickened his thrusts.

She moaned and mangled the pillow she was gripping, her breath catching as the pressure built almost unbearably high.

Right before she came, Peter rolled them quickly, so he was on top once more and she was beneath him. Then he pushed her legs open wide again and pounded into her, hurtling her over the edge. She flung the pillow she had been mangling aside and screamed in ecstacy. Her hands fumbled at the air for a moment, desperate to grip something so she could brace herself against the onslaught of pleasure. When there was nothing, she grabbed Peter’s arms, which were biting into her hips, and thrashed beneath him, crying out over and over, gasping and writhing and panting. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her toes curled, and she rode the tidal wave until it ebbed, leaving her battered and semi-conscious.

Suddenly Peter collapsed on top of her, his strength completely spent, and they lay there in a hot, sweaty, pulsing heap.

Eulalia groaned and focused on catching her breath. Arms flung wide, her legs lay spread; she didn’t think she could feel them. Her heart thundered in her ears and her chest ached. She thought she heard a deeper groan, but couldn’t be sure. She tried to move her hand, but found it weighed a thousand pounds.

Opening her eyes, she stared at the ceiling until they cleared of the red haze that had rendered her blind at the peak of her orgasm. Then she shifted her head ever so slightly and discovered the weight crushing her was Peter. She smiled and took a great big gulping breath, then let it out loudly.

“Jesus Peter, are you trying to kill me?” She had been aiming for glib, but the question came out slured and husky. He grunted into her shoulder. She chuckled. “Both of us then.”

He made an honest effort to move off her, but just simply could not find the strength. He moaned and turned his face away from her soft, fragrant skin, sucking in air. “Never,” he gasped out, then paused. He swallowed a few times, trying to work up some spit, and began again. “Never has it been… jesus.” He closed his eyes and sighed lustily.

She laughed and managed to move her limbs. First her legs closed, gripping his hips. She could feel him inside her, and smiled up at the ceiling. Then her arms wrapped around him tightly, and she hugged him, squeezing briefly until he grunted, then gripping his shoulders and shoving him off. He rolled like a sack of flour and lay without a sound on his back beside her. His eyes opened and he stared at the ceiling with her.

“How do you feel?” He finally asked her groggily. He turned his head slightly to watch her profile and felt an immense amount of satisfaction when she licked her lips and a sloppy smile curved her lips. She ran a hand leisurely down her stomach, twirled her pointer in her pubic hair a couple of times, then ran her hand back up her body, where it rested atop a creamy breast. Her fingers tapped idly.

“I thought I’d die from it.” She mumbled slowly, and closed her eyes. Her breath puffed out in an exhausted sigh and she fell right asleep. Peter watched her sleep for several minutes, then returned his gaze to the ceiling. Regaining the use of his own limbs again, he scrubbed his hands over his face and pushed himself to a sitting position, slowly so as not to wake Eulalia. He glanced over his shoulder to make certain she was still asleep, and noticed the teeth marks on his shoulder. He grinned and chuckled, then got to his feet and shuffled to the bathroom, naked, where he would shower and get ready for work.

He hated leaving her like that, but he had no choice. They couldn’t stay in bed all day having incredible mind-blowing sex. He braced his hands on the counter and stared at his face in the mirror. And that’s what it had been, he thought. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said it had never been that intense. It was something to think about all right. He yawned, stretched, and got in the shower.