When A Playboy Loves

|| 40.

Utianle

Feather like touches on my legs caused my eyelids to flutter without opening. I shifted, my side digging into the bed as I tried to get into a more comfortable position. My head sank into the soft pillows, a ghost of a smile danced on my lips when images upon images flooded my subconscious, causing heat to slowly pool at my core.

King. I sighed, sinking further into the soft mattress with my eyes still closed. He was such a passionate lover, a man who knew his way around a woman's body. I sighed again, this time in contentment. The reminder of our lovemaking late last night and early this morning combined with the gentle breeze of the AC made my nipples stand. My thighs ached; he was huge.

His caresses, kisses, the lingering touches and the patience with which he guided me to my own release, an orgasm that I didn't realize was possible for me had me pressing my legs against each other. Last night was memorable, I didn't want to wake up or even stand up from the bed.

The touches progressed from my legs to my butt and my eyes finally fluttered open. 

King's chin was propped on his right hand which was on the pillow, his left hand was running in circles around my naked butt. How long had he been awake? My gaze lowered to the part of my body he was touching and his fingers halted on the lines that were scattered all over my backside.

The stretch marks on my butt were a tone lighter than my skin, though they had faded considerably, they were still visible especially if you were staying as close to me as King was. Sometimes, I forgot about them, they were a part of me I loved but his touching them made me extra conscious.

My hands instinctively reached out for the duvet that had dropped to my thighs but he stopped me before I could pull it up to cover my nakedness. "I love it."

He ran his fingers over them again as if to reassure me. "I love it; I love your body."

Maybe it was the way he said it that made shyness overcome me or the memory of my bedroom inexperience from yesternight, I looked down at his hand that was wrapped around my waist and bit into my lips. 

Last night when we had been going at it, I had squirted. I didn't know that was what it was called until he explained without judgments, reassured me it was okay, no cause for alarm. When we were making love a second time, I squirted again and we had laughed. It was a strange, funny feeling, a whole new sexual experience for me. 

Did that count as love or was that just a usual sexual occurrence for him? I knew it wasn't, not for me and I hoped it was the same with him. Was I in love with him?

"Uti," he pressed a kiss to my shoulder, "a kobo for your thoughts?"

"No, I want a dollar."

He burst out laughing and his eyes crinkled, it was a deep, rich sound that made my mouth move into a tiny smile of its own. Without warning, King switched his position and I was pinned underneath him with his lips hovering above mine.

"You're cute," he said. His fingers laced with mine at the top of my head and he placed kisses at the corner of my lips.

"You're cute too," I murmured in response.

He withdrew sharply from me like I had struck him, his face had a mild look of shock. "I'm not cute, I'm handsome." Then he raised his left hand up to reveal his huge muscle before continuing, "and buff."

"Junior has more muscles," I teased.

The way King's face contorted in fake surprise had me giggling, I was enjoying this. He scoffed and nodded like he had gotten the perfect comeback which made me giggle even more. Junior could have all the muscles in the world but I would always want King, his body was just right for me.