Page 89 of Return Policy
“I told you koalas were sexy,” she replies with a breathless, fuck-fueled laugh.
I chuckle while maintaining my pace. “And I told you, you wouldn’t mind my return policy.”
She slips a hand between us, circling her clit, and moments later she’s screaming my name for the second time. She pulsates around my cock, and we tumble together as she milks me fucking dry.
I hold her in my arms, unable to move or set her down until I calm my reckless breathing.
She’s smiling at me, and I lean down, planting a sweet, slow kiss upon her lips.
“Incredible,” I rasp, too out of breath to mutter another word. Thank God, because I’m one “come fuck me” look away from saying three more…
* * *
“Good morning, Sunflower,” I tell Sophia as she lies naked under the crumpled sheets.
“Hmm,” she hums against the pillow.
“I brought you coffee.”
Her head pops up, and she blinks at me with sleepy eyes. “What kind?”
“Dirt black, just how you like it.”
She smiles, sitting up and covering herself with the sheet, then reaches out with grabby hands. “At least I’m not basic.”
I sit on the bed next to her, and she snatches the coffee and takes a big gulp. Thankfully, she doesn’t burn her tongue.I have detailed plans for it later.She puckers her lips, and I lean over, kissing her softly.
“Can you stop covering up?” I snatch the sheet, exposing her breasts, and she gasps.
“Hey!” she protests but doesn’t bother covering back up as she takes another sip of her drink. I don’t hide it as my gaze drops to her perfect chest. Her nipples are hard and staring directly at me, begging for attention. My mind goes blank as I try to remember what I was doing before I came in here. Her stomach grumbles, jogging my memory, and my lips curve upward.
“I’m making your belly baby breakfast,” I tell her. “Any special requests?”
She rolls her eyes, then smirks. “You can cook?”
“Does that surprise you?”
“I mean, a little. We always eat out…” Her brows furrow. “You’re telling me my man can cook, and I’ve been eating burgers and ramen this whole time?”
“Don’t forget the coochie tacos.”
“Please never say that again.”
“You said it first,” I point out, and she shrugs, taking another sip of her coffee. “Okay, back to breakfast. What sounds good?”
“Options?”
“Eggs, cereal, panca—”
“Pancakes,” she says, cutting me off. “Definitely pancakes.”
“Okay. If my girl wants pancakes, that’s what she’ll get.”
I head to the kitchen, whip up the pancake batter, then place a few scoops of it onto a hot skillet. A few minutes later, Sophia comes out in nothing but my large blue and white practice jersey.
“Sophia.” I groan, looking up at the ceiling to take a calming breath. “There’s no way I’ll finish making your breakfast with you wearingthat.”
A seductive smirk finds her lips as she pads barefooted to the kitchen counter, hopping onto it. “Well, don’t you need to eat too?” She spreads her thighs wide, and fuck me, she’s wearing absolutely nothing underneath my jersey. A perfect pink pussy sits there, awaiting my hungry mouth. I abandon the stove, drop to my knees, and glide my palms up her soft skin.
