Addicted After All (Addicted, #5)

by Krista Ritchie

He gives me oral almost every day, but I recognize the difference the moment something hard presses against my other entrance. Oh my God. Please, yes. My eyes burn with tears. “Lo,” I cry. Pleasepleaseplease let this be true and not in my mind. I constrict in excitement and impulse, and then I wince at the pressure. Oh God. His lips leave me, and I groan into the comforter. “Relax, love,” he reminds me. We’ve had anal sex enough that I should know not to tighten so much, but my body responded on its own. Lo massages my thigh again, stirring my arousal. My mind is a mixer right now, blended with lust and longings. Our doctor advised against anal sex while I’m pregnant, a restriction that’s left me more than bummed. Which is why I ask, “Are you using your fingers?” “No,” he says. And his eyes carry the answer. My eyes widen, my jaw unhinging. Sex toys. Oh my God. I tingle all over, imagining something long and hard inside of me, even though it’s most likely just a small plug. “Are we allowed?” I whisper. “I asked your Ob/Gyn. She said yes.” “Don’t move,” I blurt out. “Or I mean, move but…don’t take it out, okay?” Fear surfaces—fear of this ending too soon. “Shhh, Lil,” he says. “Breathe slowly.” I can feel my ribcage jutting out with these sporadic inhales. I lie back more and shut my eyes. He’s going to fill me both places, at the same time. It’s a craving that I’ve wanted satiated for a while.