Page 121 of Bitter’s Sweet

“Yes.”

His fingers find my clit, and pleasure cuts through me.

“There?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, I can feel your pussy getting tighter.”

My entire body burns.

He rubs me in time with every rough stroke.

“Come again.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Bullshit.”

“Bitter.”

“You can.” His mouth brushes my ear. “Give me another one.”

My body is already tightening.

He knows.

The bastard absolutely knows.

“That’s it.” His voice goes rougher. “Come on my cock, sunshine.”

The words shove me straight over the edge.

I come with a cry, clenching around him so hard Bitter’s rhythm breaks.

“Fuck. Sweet.”

He buries his face against my neck, and his hand closes around mine again.

“I can feel that. Jesus fucking Christ.”

He thrusts twice more, rough and uneven, then his whole body goes rigid. His groan sounds torn out of him.

He comes with my name against my throat.

Not Doll. Not baby. Not some meaningless name he could have used for anybody.

Sweet.

The name I chose to keep.

For a long moment, he stays over me, breathing hard, forehead pressed against mine while neither of us says anything. I am pretty sure neither of us remembers how.

Eventually Bitter lifts his head. “You with me?”

I smile weakly. “Unfortunately.”

A startled laugh breaks out of him.