“Don’t pull out,” she whispers, her voice quieter, a little shy. “I want to sleep with you still in me.”
My cock twitches, still nestled deep where I came. And fuck if that doesn’t make me harden a little. My hand slides up her back, my fingertips tracing the dip of her spine, and I kiss the side of her face.
“You sure?” I murmur into her skin. She nods and she cuddles tighter, her legs curling around mine, our bodies molding together.
“Feels good,” she breathes. “Feels… right.”
She’s right. It does. My cock is still inside her, still wrapped in her warmth, soft and soaked, every throb of her body echoing in mine. I feel the mix of us leaking out around the base, wet and warm between her thighs, but she doesn’t care, doesn’t move—just sighs again, content, melted over me like we’re one breath, one heartbeat.
I close my eyes, my arms wrapped around her, our bodies fused. The world shrinks to her weight on my chest, her pussy snug and wet around me, our breaths syncing as we start to drift.
“I’ve never slept like this,” I whisper.
She smiles into my neck, half-asleep. “Get used to it.”
I think I definitely could.
39
ISABELLA
Dinner smells amazing.
Mom made her famous roasted chicken with garlic mashed potatoes and buttery green beans. It always reminds me of home, the times when we’d all sit at the table together, talking and laughing over stories from practice or whatever else was going on in our lives.
Except tonight, the mood is tense.
Nathan’s barely looked at me since we sat down. Dad hasn’t said much, either, which is honestly worse because the mannevershuts up. If he’s quiet, something’s definitely off.
Mom, on the other hand, keeps shooting me knowing glances, like she’s waiting for me to bring up the obvious elephant in the room.
I set my fork down and exhale slowly. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”
Dad lifts a brow. “Get what over with?”
I give him a flat look. “The part where you and Nathan act like I’ve committed a federal crime.”
Nathan snorts. “Pretty sure dating Ryanisa crime.”
“Yeah?” I shoot back. “Then what does that make punching him in the face during practice? Community service?”
Nathan rolls his eyes, dropping his fork. “I barely touched him.”
“His lip split.”
“Should’ve ducked faster.”
Mom gasps. “Nathan!”
He shrugs. “What? He disrespected Dad.”
“Oh my god.” I push my plate away, my appetite gone. “This is exactly what I mean. You two are acting like I betrayed the family or something.”
“You did,” Nathan replies, dryly.
Dad finally speaks up, cutting into his chicken. “Nathan’s right. He stepped out of line.”
Mom kicks Dad under the table.
