Never Have Sex With Your Ex (Regular Sex #2) Read Free Page B

always
been in love with you,’ he whispers fiercely, his lips slow over mine, his
hands moving in my hair.
    ‘Jesus, Reuben,’
I breathe, sliding my fingers into the back of his dark hair and holding his
face to mine. ‘What is this?’
    A small,
melancholy smile tips his lips, and his eyes are inescapably sombre. Sad, even.
    ‘This is me,
fucking the woman I love as tenderly as I know how, Lizzie. This is me
following the script I always should have, instead of some screwed up horror
movie script about a string of women who don’t hold a candle to you. No one
does.’
    He’s fucking me
slow and sensual as he speaks low and only for me, the thick base of his cock
rubbing against my clit, and with every deliberate thrust, I edge closer to
coming. I’m clamped around him, drenched in desperate longing, damp-cheeked and
trembling with how much I need him.
    ’Is this tender
enough?’ He’s kissing me again, gentle now, and then he slides his hand between
our bodies and finds my clitoris with his magic fingertips.
    I clutch the top
of the sheet at the base of his back as my body arches greedily. I’m going to
come. I’m going to come right now, I can feel the engine of that powerful
juggernaut roaring through my body, from the tips of my fingers and toes,
racing towards his fingers on my clit and his cock buried inside me.
    ‘You broke my
heart,’ I gasp quietly, and he absorbs my words against his lips.
    ‘I’ll mend it,’
he says, urgent, and his body tenses because he’s so close to coming himself.
‘Every fucking day, Lizzie, I’ll mend it.’
    I hide my face
in his shoulder and bite down to stop myself from screaming his name out loud,
because my orgasm is peaking and there’s not a damn thing I can do but let the mind-melting,
pleasurable racks of it jolt my body against his. He fingers me hard as he
grinds his hips down into mine, biting my lip, his cock pulsing hot and
shockingly sexy as he comes seconds after me. We jerk almost silently,
clutching each other, our faces buried deep in each other's necks, agonised by
the need to shout, scream, groan and roar.
    I feel strangely
as if I'm in one of those matrix style scenes, you know when everything slows
down and you see snapshots of all of the players? Snapshots of Reuben and I on
our wedding day, snapshots of us up here having sex, snapshots of the rest of
the cast and crew scattered around the theatre watching us. If anyone dropped a
pin in here right now, you'd hear it.
    ‘What happens
next, Lizzie?’ Reuben whispers, when he’s finally got his breathing back under
control.
    Beneath the
sheet, his cock slips out of me and I miss him already.
    Someone coughs,
and Art struts on from the wings.
    ‘We might need
to run through that again, folks,’ he says, frowning at the script. ‘Do you
think you could you make it less obvious that you’re actually fucking, next
time around? This is the West End, people, not Amsterdam. Take five.’ He stalks
off set again, clicking his fingers at one of the set runners.
    ‘Clean sheets,
please.' He shoots us a dark look over his shoulder and then turns back to the
runner. 'You better order in a supply.’
    I guess I should
be mortified, but you know what? I’m just not. Art asked for chemistry. Maybe
next time he'll be careful what he wishes for.
    'You'd think
he'd be grateful that we're such dedicated method actors,' I laugh shakily under
my breath and look up at Reuben.
    ‘Same time, same
place tomorrow?’ he says, and his dark eyes dance with laughter, and something
that looks for all the world like love.
    Behind his head,
I watch a flashy new neon sign for the play being hung out in the foyer.
     
    Never have
Sex with Your Ex
     
    Yeah. About
that...

 
    I hope you enjoyed reading about
Lizzy and Reuben’s reunion!
     
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