Page 131 of Broken Vows

A hot gush floods out of me as I squirt, soaking his chin and the sheets beneath us. My whole body shakes with the force of it. He doesn’t stop—he moans against my clit and keeps sucking greedily, drawing out every pulsing wave as I come hard against his tongue. I fight to keep my cries locked behind my teeth, eyes squeezed shut.

Slowly the pleasure ebbs. My thighs fall open. Levi presses one last soft, lingering kiss to my oversensitive clit before he lifts his head.

He looks down, then back at me, his mouth twitching. “Well. That’s new.”

Heat floods my cheeks. “That’s only happened once before,” I say, mortified and still breathless.

“Why are you saying that like it’s a problem?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not.” His mouth curves. “It’s sexy.”

He moves up my body, careful with his injured arm, and settles between my thighs. Bracing himself on his good arm, he looks down at me with hungry eyes.

“Your shoulder?”

“I want to be close to you,” he says. “Tell me if I’m crushing you, alright?”

Then he pushes inside me in one slow, deep thrust. The stretch is perfect. My hands slide up his strong back as he fills me completely. He stays there for a moment, buried in me, forehead pressed to mine.

Then he kisses me, slow and deep and I can feel myself already pulsing around him for just the kiss.

He grins against my lips and starts moving — deep, rolling thrusts that press me into the mattress. His good arm holds him up, muscles flexing with the effort, but he keeps his body close, chest to chest, skin to skin.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His mouth finds mine in a messy, desperate kiss as he fucks me harder, the rhythm building, the bed creaking beneath us.

We stay like that—mouths fused, bodies pressed tight, breathing each other in. Even when his thrusts grow more urgent and his breathing turns ragged, he keeps kissing me like he can’t bear to pull away. Like he needs the closeness as much as I do.

Then his rhythm falters. A low groan vibrates against my mouth as he comes, hips jerking, burying himself deep inside me. His good arm tightens around my back, holding me flush against him as he rides it out, trembling and groaning into the kiss.

After a long moment, he exhales shakily and rolls off me with a wince.

I roll on top of him, careful to avoid his injured shoulder. The scar there is still pink and raised. I lean down and press a gentle kiss to the edge of it, then another, softer this time.

“Does it hurt?” I ask.

“A bit.” His voice is rough. “Not when you do that.”

I kiss it again before lifting my head to look at him.

Then I glance down between us and let out a soft laugh.

“There’s a big wet patch in your bed now,” I say, amused. “I think I ruined your sheets.”

Levi’s mouth curves into a lazy, satisfied grin. “I’ve got it.”

After we shower together, Levi strips the bed without a word, bundles the damp sheets under one arm, and remakes it with fresh ones. He even lays a towel over the clean sheet where the wet patch had been.

I watch him from the doorway, heart full.

We climb back in, and I press my face into the warm skin of his neck, breathing him in.

“Got something to tell you,” he says. “And I don’t want you feeling like you have to fix it. I can handle it.”

“What is it?”

“I got a job.” His mouth twists like the words taste foreign. “Regular hours. Payroll. All that shit.”