Until Avery is lurching up and banding an arm around my waist. Until his cheek is pressed against my chest. Until my hand is in his hair, hugging him closer. Until we’re both crying out with the release of our orgasms. Avery wraps me in his arms then. He pulls me against his chest and intertwines our legs. I feel our arousals and needs mixing together—sticky and messy. But I don’t care. I want to stay wrapped up in my husband just like this.
