Sebring

Maybe after two orgasms she was sated.

It being later than normal, maybe she was tired and off-guard.

Maybe she was getting used to him.

But when he pushed his hips into hers and took her to her belly before he pulled out, rolled off and rolled her on top of him, what happened next happened.

She shoved her face in his neck and pressed her chest into his in what felt like a body hug without the arms.

Then he felt her sigh against his skin as she relaxed on top of him.

She always smelled good, and right then that was no different, except it was better. This was because, mingled with her perfume, the products she used in her hair and the natural fragrance of her skin, he could smell them on her. A nuance of him and the scent of sex clung to her, heavy and exquisite.

Her hair always felt good and right then spread across his chest and shoulder that also was no different.

And her body always felt good, but he’d never had it like it was right then.

And it was not good—in fact it was entirely fucked that he liked it like it was right then maybe better than any way he’d already had it.

He took a guess at the reason behind her actions, shoving the rest of his thoughts in the back of his mind, and advised, “You liked that so much, you need to submit more often.”

It felt like she relaxed even more at the same time he felt something weird against his throat, like her cheek moving with a smile.

He almost caught hold of her hair to pull back her head to see if that was the case when she snuggled into him.

Fucking snuggled into him.

It was not a burrow but it wasn’t deniable as a cuddle either.

He felt his body still.

What the fuck?

Olivia Shade, made of stone, she comes, she fucks, she comes, then she leaves…snuggling?

Even though that happened, she made no response.

“You gonna do that?” he asked and explained, “Submit.”

Her shoulders moved in a slight shrug.

Back to silence.

He wanted her voice.

As risky as he knew it was, he pushed for it.

“Definitely hot, you on your hands and knees in front of me, head bent in submission, takin’ me.”

She gave him her voice and he automatically soaked it in.

“I was coming,” she pointed out.

“I made you come,” he corrected.

“I can’t really argue that,” she murmured.

“And doin’ it, you definitely submitted.”

He was right, he knew it. He knew the difference.

He had a feeling she did as well when she attempted to stop their conversation with, “Quiet, Sebring. I’m recuperating.”

He felt his lips twitch up.

“Good call. Plenty of energy so I can fuck you submissive again,” he muttered.

Another body hug without the arms and then he felt her lips trail his collarbone.

Shit.

He should let her go.

This time, he should get up, get dressed and get the fuck out of there. He was getting in too deep. The first actual conversation they’d had and it was happening.

He had to step back and get control.

He didn’t. He slid his hand up into her hair, fisted it gently and gave it a tug.

She lifted her head and he saw her face, shadowed but visible by the lights of the city.

“You dug that scene, master and slave,” he noted about the scene that she definitely dug when they met at the club.

As a response to that, she lifted her hand, cupped his jaw and slid her thumb along his lower lip before her eyes caught his in the shadows.

“We should book a salon,” she suggested softly.

They were seriously fucking doing that.

But that wasn’t what they were talking about.

“Changin’ the subject, Olivia,” he noted.

“Are you asking me if I liked to be whipped?” she asked.

“Whipped. Spanked. Caned. Cropped. Some or all of the above,” he replied.

“I have no idea,” she told him. “Do you?”

“Think you’re missin’ in your desire to cow me that I’m tryin’ to do the same to you.”

“No, Sebring,” she said in that fucking voice. That fucking voice that now that he had, he had to brace against because he liked it too much. “I am not missing that.”

“Not sure this works, two tops with neither of us feelin’ good thoughts about bein’ a bottom.”

She dipped her face close as she again slid her thumb along his lip in a gentle way that felt good just as it felt claiming before she moved her hand down so she could stroke his jaw.

“I don’t know. Seems you don’t mind when I top you.”

“Prefer it when I top you. And I’ve noted, especially just now, you don’t mind it either.”

He felt her lips touch his.

Then he felt, actually felt her smile.

And he wished the lights were on so he could see that in those green eyes.

“Strange that we don’t seem ill-suited,” she remarked.

Seriously?

“Ill-suited?” he asked.

“Ill-suited,” she answered, then went on like he needed an explanation. “Not a good match.”

“I know what it means. But who says ‘ill-suited?’” he asked and felt another smile.

“Me,” she whispered against his lips

He felt that whisper there and in his gut and he knew. He knew he was better when the woman didn’t talk.

He was about to do something about that when she asked, “Are you saying you think we should stop meeting?”

“No,” he replied swiftly and continued, “My guess, we’re gonna have to fight that out another way, a way we both like. A discussion about it is not gonna earn us jack. But what I’ll say now is you aren’t gettin’ dressed and leavin’ my ass here. For once, we’re actually gonna use a room one of us is payin’ for for more than half an hour. I would prefer that be one of the times I paid for it but I’ll take this time. And we’re usin’ it partly because I’m wiped and need to sleep and partly because I’m not done so when I wake up, I wanna wake up and fuck you.”