No joke.

He sat back on his calves, taking me with him, so I sat on his dick.

And his hands went back to my breasts.

It was not lost on me he was a tit man.

And since I was ultra-sensitive there, it also wasn’t lost on me this was (high) on the long-and-getting-longer list of how we were compatible.

“Seriously,” he murmured into my neck, giving gentle, kneading squeezes that were way better than a post-fuck cuddle. “Best tits ever, baby. Beautiful.”

“Thanks,” I wheezed.

I was pretty sure I felt him smile.

“And sweet, juicy pussy,” he continued. “So goddamn wet, you’re all over my thighs.”

I shivered.

“Even when I’m fuckin’ you, my mouth is watering with the need to eat you.”

Another shiver.

“I can’t touch you, honey,” I voiced my complaint.

“No,” he agreed, and didn’t move.

Oh my.

Yes, I was his.

I loved that.

One hand left a breast, moved over my belly, which normally, I didn’t like. It wasn’t concave or even flat, and I’d always been conscious of it.

But he palmed it with the same reverence he gave my breast and any notion of embarrassment or discomfort that might have formed vanished in an instant.

He then slid his hand back up, the other one moved, and they changed tits as he crossed them over me, but he still held the weight cupped in his hands.

“Before I had you, would jack myself, thinking of you sucking me off with all this gorgeous hair all over my lap,” he shared.

“Honey,” I whispered.

“I think with that ride, Hattie, you broke us both in. We’ll find time where we got a good amount of it to get creative.”

Oh yeah.

“Okay,” I agreed.

His hands went to my waist, he pulled me up and got out of bed.

Then he hooked me with an arm and my knees skidded across his sheets before he swung me up in both of his arms and carried me, not in a fireman’s hold, but groom and bride, to the bathroom.

He set me on the counter.

I had not recovered from the Groom and Bride Maneuver when, for the first time, he got out a washcloth, wet it with warm water, pressed it between my legs and cleaned me.

Rinse, and I watched as he cleaned me from him.

Another rinse, and he draped it neatly over the sink (exactly what I would do).

And in another surprise move, he caught me under the arm with a swing and I was on his back.

On.

His.

Back.

Playful and sweet.

Oh my God.

This man.

I tucked my thighs to his hips, wrapped my arms around his neck, and he flipped the light switch as he carried me out and dropped me down beside the bed.

He handed me my shorts, panties and cami, reached to grab his pajama pants, we dressed and Axl pulled me into bed.