Her pussy is my fucking safe place, and that’s where I need to bury myself. I would never just do that, though, while she’s asleep. Not without her permission.
“Baby?”
“You heard me. Please, I need it inside me.”
Fuck me sideways.
I reach for my dick as she sticks her ass out farther, a groan leaving her lips when I find her entrance and slide inside. She’s still slick, the dirty little girl.
“Yes,” she says, snuggling back as I stay seated deep inside her. “Just like that.”
Holy shit. Has my girl got the same kink as me? We’re not having sex, and the way I observe her breathing steadily, she’s fallen back asleep. And here I am, inside my girl, where I need to be. Where I belong.
I can’t help it, but I pull out, then so slowly, I slide back in. The movement makes my eyes roll into the back of my head. Fucking her like this while she sleeps contently? Holy shit balls. That is something else.
I have to be gentle so I don’t wake her up, but this is reaching new heights even for me. I stay like that for a moment, buried deep inside her sweet pussy, then just as carefully, I slide out again.
She consented.
She’s asleep, but she said it was okay.
Retract thought about not being a somnophiliac.
And it is more than fucking okay. She is milking my goddamn cock in her fucking sleep. I keep the unhurried movement up as my cock swells, knowing she’s murmuring right now because she likes it.
“Such a good girl,” I mutter. I palm her ass cheek, spreading it as I continue my torturous ministrations.
How the fuck can she sleep through this?
But she does, and that turns me on. In and out, in and out, slowly, carefully, my baby’s pussy gripping me like a goddamn vice. And then I’m coming, I still, emptying inside of her again as my release goes on and on and on. My entire body is on fire for her, lost in the moment of us together like this, even in her sleep.
I want her.
I want her so bad.
My eyes flutter closed as I fall asleep once more, still inside her, where I belong.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
Nova
“...And that’s when I knew I had to get out of what I was doing,” the raven-haired girl, Jill says, I realize as I glance down at her resume.
“And what were you doing before?”
“Umm, office work.”
There’s no crime in wanting to find another position, but she doesn’t seem to have her last workplace listed as a reference. That could be a red flag, or they could just have been assholes to work for, I’ve been there.
“I see you’ve had quite a few years of experience. We have a computerized quoting system that we use here, but that’s mainly the boys.” I thumb behind me.
“Ooh, the bikers?” she wiggles her eyebrows, and that irritates me.
We’re not buddies. I’m interviewing her.
“There’s talk,” she goes on. “About the MC and what goes on. If I get the position, does that mean I get to go to the clubhouse?”