I rolled my hips and clenched my fingers on his head as I panted, “Oh my God,” stuck in feeling all he was making me feel and unable to do anything but grind.

His mouth released my breast and his head tipped back.

“Ride, Amy,” he demanded on a growl, his thumb dragging over the slick his mouth left at my nipple.

All I could do was glory in his cock buried deep, Mickey all around me, his thumb teasing my nipple so I didn’t do what I was told. I kept grinding and my head dropped back.

“Right,” he bit out and surged up, still connected, and I was on my back in the bed, Mickey on me, one hand clasped to the back of one knee, yanking it high, the other arm wound around me, holding me steady, as he drove into me.

“Oh God,” I breathed.

“Work your clit,” he ordered.

That clit contracted at the order.

His mouth came to mine. “Wanna feel you workin’ yourself as I fuck you. Do it. Now, baby.”

I shoved a hand between us and down and did it.

When I did, my heels dug into the backs of his thighs and my hips came off the bed. Not long after, my head dug into the duvet and my lips parted.

Because I went soaring.

I felt Mickey’s mouth at my throat until I righted my head and then I felt his mouth on mine, the invasion of his tongue, and I loved how much Mickey kissed while he made love to me.

He quit doing that when he normally quit doing that, and I cupped my hands on the back of his head to hold him to me so his grunt of release filled my mouth.

He rode me hard through his orgasm before he rode me soft and did it with the same kind of kiss.

When it left him, he ended the kiss, but gave me another one on my nose, then my chin before he slid out, saying gently, “Gotta get ready for work, darlin’.”

I held on, not clingy, just lightly, as he moved out of my arms.

I did this nodding.

It was Friday morning. My kids were going to be there after school. I would see them but I wouldn’t see Mickey until they were gone.

He pulled the bedclothes over my lower half before he exited the bed.

I twisted so I could watch him saunter to the bathroom.

I curled into myself as I heard the shower go on.

This was becoming our routine.

Mickey came to me after being at the firehouse. Had sex with me. Slept with me. Had sex with me in the morning. Showered at my place. Went to his, changed clothes and went out.

It was a routine that was working for me.

I looked to the clock.

It wasn’t even six thirty.