Page 67 of Her Ex-Husband's Brother

White light bursts outwards from my pussy in a shocking tidal wave of pleasure, to my fingertips. To my scalp. To my toes.

I quake through the hardest orgasm of my life, clinging to the sheets because if I don’t, I’ll lift right off out of this bed up into the sky and oh god, oh god, it’s still going, he’s still?—

Ohgod?—

I rock forcefully against his face as the pleasure eclipses all thought or understanding and I go breathless, and then absolutely limp.

But only for a moment, because while he’s let up the pressure of his mouth, now he licks lazily at my clit, making aftershocks rock through my belly and legs, and tears of pleasure run freely down my cheeks.

So many times until I’m begging, “Enough, enough, I can’t take anymore.”

Which is when he finally eases my legs down and he climbs up to lie beside me on the bed, a smile of such smug satisfaction on his face.

I throw an exhausted arm around his neck, so wrung out with pleasure, dragging him to my chest.

“Holy sh-sh-shit,” I finally manage to stutter out.

He chuckles and rests there smugly, throwing a heavy arm around my waist.

“W-w-what about you?” I blink and ask, I don’t know how many minutes later.

He’s quiet, just resting on my chest for another minute, apparently completely peaceful just snuggling. “Well, I wondered if you wanted to stay the night? I figured this was just round one.”

My eyes fly back open and fresh aftershocks make my legs spasm. And then I grin big. Holy shit. “I-I?—”

I laugh at the stuttering mess he’s made of me and swallow hard. “I think I’d like that.”

EIGHTEEN

AUGUST

Lennon doesn’t stayin my RV every night… just most of them. We can’t keep our hands off each other.

Two weeks and I’ve been able to match her energy because I’ve beenup. She brings it out of me.

If only I didn’t know that what goes up must come down.

With one half of my head, I’m fully in the wild joy of spending time with her and the sex, holy shit, thesex… meanwhile, I feel like there’s a clock ticking down at the back of my mind.

How long until the bubble pops?

Because that’s what it feels like. I’ll be soaring so high up in the sky, joyful and full of light and manic creative energy, and thenpop?—

The once soaring balloon becomes a chaotic torpedo losing air until it lands, time in the clouds forgotten once it’s deflated on the ground.

The rollercoaster takes a dramatic downturn and we’re all the way below the floor again in zero point three seconds flat with little to no warning.

Sure, Lennon thinks I’m great now.

That’s because I’m hyper-functional. What about the version of me that can barely hold down my job?

Not as fucking sexy, huh?

Still, while we’re in it, it’s easy to lose sight of that bigger picture.

Like, it’s so good right now that even after the sex, we lie there and just…talk.

I caress her hair back from her face because I’m obsessed with the soft little hairs that frame her face and will take any and all excuse to touch them, and her, even though our legs are already still tangled up from the intense, heart-pounding sex we just had.