We fit so perfectly it was like God himself had custom carved us for each other, and when she moved, it was like sliding home into heaven.
She started slow and sinuous, but her rhythm soon picked up, and I had to grit my teeth and mentally run through my pitch presentation for the Vault just so I didn’t embarrass myself by coming too early.
“You feel so damn good.” I groaned, my head falling back so I could drink her in.
Sloane bounced up and down on my cock, her hair a mess, her face flushed with exertion. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, and I was so lost in this, in her, that I didn’t give a fuck about the bet.
I grabbed her hips and slammed her down, eliciting a sharp squeal. I thrust up to match her pace, and the volume of our grunts and moans intensified until I came with blinding force.
My vision whitened, streaks of lightning racing behind my eyes, and I vaguely heard Sloane cry out in pleasure before I regained some form of control over my senses.
When my vision finally cleared, she was just coming down from her own orgasm. She smiled down at me, her expression a mix of post-coital bliss, triumph, and something else I couldn’t identify.
“I won.”
“You did.” I pulled her down and gave her another kiss. “Bragging rights for life.”
I didn’t mention how neither of us had timed the encounters, so who really knew who’d won? That wasn’t important.
A warm, heavy blanket of contentment draped over me as we lay in companionable silence and waited for our pulses to return to normal.
I’d spent my whole life chasing the next high. When you had everything, everything got boring fast. I wanted bigger, better, faster. I wanted something that would last, and when Sloane rolled to the side and curled up against me, I knew I’d found it.
This was my greatest high. Her, sated and happy, in my arms. Nothing in the world could ever beat this moment.