39

Scar

I dream of Rita that night. When I wake, I'm still in her bed. We smell like sex. I kiss her neck, cup her naked breasts. She wiggles her hips against me until I'm hard again. She's sleepy and beautiful as I kiss her. We fuck like that, half awake. I make sure to grind against her with my piercing, driving her wild. It gives me satisfaction, making her come like this, more joy than I ever thought possible. When she gets off twice, she pushes me back, panting and sweating, and she finishes me with her mouth. Slow and sensual, eyes locked on mine. Swallows every drop.

While she showers, I make breakfast. Pancakes and coffee. She accepts a plate when she comes out, drying her hair. "That was unexpected," she says.

"What, the morning sex?"

"No, the pancakes." She stares at the plate. "I genuinely didn't think you knew how to work the stove."

I roll my eyes. "I wasn't always rich, remember? I lived on pancakes for years. They gave me a scholarship at Blackwoods, but not a stipend. Mos