Page 89 of Sunny Undone

This feels different to all the other times we’ve had sex. More intimate, somehow.

I lift my head so I can look at her face, soft in sleep. Her cheek is squashed into the pillow. One hand is curled beneath her chin. And I have that recurring thought that I wouldn’t mind getting the chance to wake up next to her for the rest of my life.

Maybe she’d let me tie a silk tie around those wrists of hers, so when she woke up, she wouldn’t be able to fight me off. I nudge in an inch farther, this time, and she moves, making a soft sigh. I wonder if she’s waking up. I almost want her to so I can see her reaction.

To see those hazel eyes of hers go wide in panic, for a moment, and then, see the warmth return to her features when she realizes it’s me. That she’s safe.

I place my hand on top of hers by her chin and slide my other hand beneath her.

“You have no fucking clue what you do to me, Indy,” I whisper, the urgency to just bury my cock deep bordering on desperation. Need claws at my chest until I’m breathless with it. My whole body tenses as I wrap my arms tight around her.

Della sucks in a breath, her body restrained by me, and she looks over her shoulder at me as her eyes blink open.

“Sunny,” she breathes.

I slip one hand to her clit, cupping it, first, as I press deeper inside her. “Don’t move.”

Her eyes close again, but she’s not frightened. A soft smile on her lips.

“Can feel you getting wet for me, Della. Can feel your hips twitch and then, you remember to stay real still while I force my cock into you.”

“Sunny,” she says.

I slide my hand over her mouth. “I don’t want to hear a sound from you. You’re just a warm body I want to fuck, and you just have to lie there and let me.”

It’s not the truth. Couldn’t be further from it, but if she wants some role-play, I’m gonna give it to her.

Her hair is everywhere, and she looks nothing like the utterly competent Dr. Della Hart, who can dismantle someone’s argument with peer reviewed research and a smile.

She looks like my Della. The one others don’t get to see because she doesn’t trust them like she trusts me. She looks a little wild, happy. She’s probably got some fancier word for it.

“Ah, fuck,” I mutter when I bottom out against her ass. “Look at you taking all of me like this. I’m bare, like you asked. Fucking you raw.” She tries to move her hips, but I slap her pussy gently and she stills.

Her tongue dips out, and she licks circles on my hand. It tickles, and I break character, for a second, to chuckle. But I manage to compose myself and raise an eyebrow at her. She stops, and I move my hand to her chin, messily forcing her lips to mine.

She lets out a gasp as I withdraw my hips, then bury myself deep inside.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Being my little fuck toy. Just letting me fuck you whenever I want to. Letting me cum in you.”

The words make her eyes go wide, and she opens her mouth and attempts to reply.

“Ah. Ah. Ah. Della. I didn’t give you permission to speak, yet. Just want your eyes on me while I fuck your smooth and incredibly hot body.”

The corner of her eyes crinkle with a sweet smile, and then, she bites down on her lip. The humor softens into something so vulnerable, I could eat her up. As if reading my thoughts, Della reaches up one of her hands and lets her knuckle drift over my cheek.

Suddenly, all the fantasies in my head, all the restraints and control and things we could do, just become background noise. Because this…me and her…so connected…is better.

She’s trusting me and I’m…fuck, I’m falling for this woman even harder than I was before.

Even after the hard questions she asked me last night.

Every moment I spend with her just has me tripping over my feet and heart for her.

I let my fingers strum her clit. I circle and pinch, and every time, her hips flinch, but she doesn’t rock. I lift her thigh a little higher over mine, opening her more to me. And I wish I really was fucking her bare. And that there weren’t reasonable timelines for relationships to develop. And sure, I’m probably being a reckless fool to admit this, but I want a future with this woman so badly I can taste it.

Della’s expression changes; her mouth opens, her eyes wide.

“You want to come?” I ask.