Page 12 of Age Gap Bear's Enemies-to-Lovers Mate

I’m about to be hit by the most explosive orgasm when he pulls back. He picks me up from the couch. I’m trembling so hard my teeth chatter. I feel chills race over my skin.

He holds me with what seems no effort at all. He guides my legs around him and then he slides his hard cock into my very wet and waiting pussy. The first thrust makes me cry out with some actual volume. The next one makes me lose all control. The third one brings my orgasm to the tipping point.

I lose anything resembling a complete sense of reality, of anything beyond pleasure (that is almost pain, actually) as my orgasm grips me. He holds me tightly and thrusts far more rapidly until I feel his body tense as he holds me tightly enough it’s almost scary while he cums.

The whole thing is surreal.

And it isn’t over.

He doesn’t let me go. He just carries me to the bedroom and drops me onto the bed. He climbs on, and things start all over again.

A bit later, my exhaustion draws me to sleep. I’m not really aware of much except how very tired I am. I’m not even really aware of Clint at the moment. He’s just a vague presence by my side as we drift to sleep together.

Around midnight, I woke up to the shower running in the bathroom. I slip out of bed and walk over. I don’t know if I’m actively deciding to keep the adventure going or if I’m afraid the conversation tomorrow will end things so I just want more now. I just don’t know. Whatever the reason, I slip into the shower with him.

But he doesn’t do anything more than wrap his arms around me and kiss me lightly on the head. He gets bodywash in his hand, lathers up a washcloth, and bathes me.

It is the most intimate thing I’ve ever experienced in my life, and I feel like I want to cry again.

We finish our shower and head to the front room. He gets some leftovers and pops them in the microwave. We settle down to watch some TV while eating. I curl my legs up on the couch and lean into him.

I don’t understand how I’ve gone from having a panic attack at the thought of being unable to suck this guy off to cuddle with him while watching a late-night infomercial about kitchen gadgets and cracking jokes about the announcer.

“Well, I think we should maybe get some more sleep, huh?” He stretches and stands. I get to my feet beside him.

And then he takes my hand and leads me back to the bedroom.

It’s a scene straight out of a family sitcom. The young couple heading to the marital bed after indulging in late-night makeup sex.

What the hell is running through my head?

We get to the room and I have no answer, but I know that I want to be here not just for the sex anymore. Even after we make love again and I realize everything about sex has changed for me... Even after I realize it’s like my circuits have been rewired so I can handle far more pleasure than I could have imagined before... Even after all that, I know that this is more than some weird physical addiction to a man I loathe.

I know I want to fall asleep at his side and dream of more nights like this one, and I mean watching the infomercial and eating leftovers, not just the orgasms.

Chapter Nine

Clint

She looks beautiful.

Fresh out of the shower, wearing her shorts and my shirt.

So beautiful.

I don’t want to have this conversation even though I know we need to have it. I realize I don’t want to have the conversation because the conversation may be the end of this relationship, such as it is. Damn it, though. I can’t keep feeling like we’re damaging each other or, more accurately, that she might experience damage.

“Why do you hate me, Livvy?” I ask.

She stares at me for a second and then a slight smile appears on her face. “Wow. Get right to it, huh? Well, let’s start from the other direction. Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Okay, why do I frustrate the hell out of you?”

It’s my turn to smile. “You got angry about my land. You wanted it and you couldn’t accept that I wasn’t interested inselling at all. You called me unreasonable. You called me stupid. You called me a number of names.”

Her eyes narrowed for a moment. Then they change. They’re not friendly but they’re not angry. When she speaks, I can hear something almost like desolation in her voice. She says, “I was a millionaire at seventeen. I… People look at me and they see a pair of tits and an ass. Not everybody but most people. Even enlightened people.”