THIRTY-EIGHT
When morning came, Bernard wished it away, for such a blissful night could only have been a dream. Yet when he opened his eyes, Ursula lay in the bed beside him, her legs tangled with his and her possessive hand on his already eager to please c**k.
He blew out a breath he hadn't know he was holding. It had all been real. Ursula screaming his name as she straddled him, that golden mane of curls bouncing around he as she rode him, arching her back to place her breasts close enough for him to kiss...
He wanted to wake her up to do it all again, but he knew better than anyone to be cautious. For last night passion had definitely overridden caution and she would surely be aching this morning. Why, he was aching – but that was his leg, and that was normal.
"Bernard?" Ursula sa
