The Redo (Winslow Brothers #4) (90)

Remy

At first, I don’t know what wakes me up, but when I look at the clock on the nightstand, I realize it’s nearing three in the morning.

But then, I know exactly why I’m awake. Maria’s naked body is stretched over mine, her eyes lax with sleep, and my cock, well, it feels like he’s harder than he’s ever been.

It’s only been a few hours since I was inside her, since I felt the way she pulsed around me as she gave in to her pleasure, saw the look in her eyes when she came.

But fuck, I feel insane with the need to do it again.

Her hips shift in a way that makes her bare pussy press against my thigh, and it does nothing for my current state of arousal.

I know I shouldn’t wake her up. I know I should let her sleep.

But what I know and what I need are apparently two different things.

“Maria,” I whisper toward her and reach out to brush her hair out of her face.

She stirs a little, and I lean down to press my lips to hers. Gentle at first, I coax her mouth with soft, brushing kisses at the corners. But I’m more than thrilled when her eyes flutter and her lips start to move with mine.

I should probably feel like an asshole, I know, but I can’t find it in me to care about anything else but being with her again.

She moans into my mouth and our kiss deepens, and any inkling of willpower I might have had is shattered like a hammer to glass.

Her eyes are open now, staring directly into mine, and I’m too far gone on this woman to beat around the bush. “I need you,” I tell her. “Fuck, I need to be inside you again.”

“Yes,” she whimpers and grinds herself against my thigh.

I don’t know if it’s the remnants of tequila still running through our veins, but we’re acting on instinct. On raw, pure, unadulterated need.

It’s all I can do to keep some control, to not attack her body with mine and put my mouth and tongue and hands and cock in every fucking place I can find. It’s insanity. It’s consuming. And it’s fucking intense.

I pull her body over mine, and she sits up so that her legs are straddling my hips and her hands are pressed against my chest.

Her dark hair falls forward and her eyes are hooded and her lips are parted, and this is, hands down, the sexiest fucking sight I’ve ever seen in my life. I wish I had it in me to slow it down, to savor each second of this vision, of this perfect fucking view of her on top of me, but I can’t.

I’m shocked I even find it in me to don a condom.

But the name of this game is rush-to-get-inside-her-before-I-fucking-explode, so that’s exactly what I do. No pausing, no uncertainty, I am a man driven by only need.

I fill her up then, driving my hips upward to fill her with my cock inch-by-motherfucking-inch, and fuck me, it feels so good, I have to shut my eyes on a groan for the briefest of moments.

She moans and her head falls back, and the movement pushes her breasts out in a way that I have to reach up to grip them in my hands.

Her hips move then, her body giving in to the pleasure that sits before us.

“Yes,” I nearly growl as I watch her in action. Watch her make herself feel good. Watch her ride me in a way that’s hotter, sexier, more mind-blowing than any fantasy my mind has ever been able to come up with.

I don’t know what the consequences of the morning will bring, but I know I won’t regret this.

I know this because, even as I can feel her around me, feel the way she pulses with each thrust of my cock, feel the impending climax this will bring, I know this won’t be enough.

I don’t know if it’ll ever be enough.





Saturday, October 12th

Maria

I startle at the sound of two sharp buzzes from my nightstand, my eyes flicking open dramatically before closing again in an instant.

Ugh, gah. Why is it so freaking bright?

I rub at my eyes then, willing them to work and adjust as I open them to small slivers and take stock of the room.

The covers on my bed are on but disheveled, and the curtains I normally close are wide open. Hence, the overbearing sunlight, I suppose.

My head feels like it weighs approximately one million pounds, and my stomach turns over on itself more than once. Several city salt trucks must have dumped their loads on my tongue too.

Tequila. Yuck.

I shift slightly again before coming to the realization that I have no fucking clothes on whatsoever, and then I glance to my left before doing a double take.

My gasp is audible. “Oh, holy shit,” I whisper, my gaze snagging on a sleeping—also nude—Remy.

He’s not even under the blanket, for goodness’ sake.

Without taking my eyes off him—okay, without taking my eyes off his penis—I hold the comforter to my chest with one hand and reach back for my phone on its dock charger with the other.

It pops off the magnet easily, but I have to bring it fully into my vision—directly between myself and Remy’s member—in order to look at it. I mean, damn. That beautiful, giant thing was inside me last night.

Twice, my mind reminds me.

My breathing escalates at just the thought. Evidently, despite my very best intentions and my drunken, orgasm-blurred confidence of last night, I’m actually not emotionally prepared to handle the situation like a full-blown adult.

Oh my God! Remy and I slept together last night. But, like, without the sleeping. Holy, holy shit.