Illicit
“She’s not sleeping. She passed out,” Connor said. “That happens sometimes when the fucking is really intense.”
“I know. They call it la petite mort.” Travis knelt at her side and stroked her hand. “The little death.”
Erik scooped her up and carried her across the deck, his chest tightening in concern. Travis opened the patio door and Erik carried her inside and down the hall to the master bedroom. Connor got the door this time, then Erik carried her to the king-sized bed.
* * * Lindsay felt a solid chest against her face and strong arms under her back and legs. Her body jostled as someone carried her.
“Grab the covers.” It was Erik’s voice.
Her eyelids flicked open. What was going on?
Erik was carrying her in his arms. Memories of him kissing her, then driving that incredible cock of his into her, sent her heart racing.
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