Page 138 of Prickly Pair
I would, gladly. He was perfect inside me. Stretching me, hitting just the right spot, making me want to beg. My fingers gripped the blankets harder as I pushed my ass back to meet every thrust.
Years. Months. Weeks. We could have had this when he showed back up in Whynot. Hell, we could have had something likethisinstead of hating each other so much in high school.
His fingertips dug into my skin hard enough to leave bruises—and I wanted them. I wanted to see his marks on me. I wanted them to be like the tattoos that painted his body.
For all the things I’d been telling myself I hated about Nick, it was hitting me now that I’d been wrong.
They were all things I loved about him.
His humor. His intelligence. His kindness. The way he would always jump into help. The way he pushed himself to grow.
His resilience. I had no idea what he’d gone through when we were younger, but he’d made himself into something. He’d gone on and fought to succeed despite not having the support he deserved from loved ones.
And god, I loved his cock. I loved the piercings. I loved his fucking mullet.Why was the mullet so hot?
This man had been the bane of my existence for so long. Enemies in high school, always fighting, always pushing each other. And then he’d shown back up in town, taking a piece of my home—and I was so fucking glad he did.
I was happy.
I panted, my vision blurring with tears as more pleasure pumped through me.
Hemade mehappy.
“Please,” I whined. “Please come inside me.Please.”
Nick groaned. “I can’t deny you when you beg like that, baby.”
Baby.Maybe being called baby by Nick was my new kink, because as he buried himself deep inside me and unleashed, I came too. Cum shot from my cock in hot ropes as he filled me, the two of us letting out long, needy groans.
I collapsed against the bed. He sank on top of me, and I loved the weight of his body. It felt safe and good, comforting.
He kissed my shoulders gently, his touch turning soft.
“Nick,” I whispered. “I don’t hate you.”
“I think I know that,” he murmured.
“I think it’s the opposite of hate.”
I felt him smile. “Me too, Whynot.”
Warmth filled my chest. My eyes closed and I realized I could just stay like this.
“We’re gonna cuddle for a few minutes,” he mumbled. “Then we’re gonna get up, clean your house, eat some real food because I’m fucking starving now, and then sit on the couch together and get things done. Okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
And we did exactly that. Somehow with Nick, it was easier to not put up the tough front. Possibly because he wouldn’t let me do it, or maybe because he knew exactly what that tough front felt like too. Either way, everything felt better with him here.
“All right,” Nick sighed happily, yanking me to his side on the couch. “Open your laptop. We’re scheduling you a therapy appointment and looking at your schedule.”
I made a face at him. I was perfectly capable of doing those things myself. “You don’t need to?—”
He grabbed my hair and pulled hard enough I winced. “Shut up, Whynot. We’re doing it. Together. Okay?”
My cheeks burned, but I nodded. Yes, I could do this myself, but . . .
Having him here to help wasn’t a bad thing.
