The Mathematician (Book 1)

8. Familiar Visits

I didn't know what last night had meant to be, but it hadn't turned out as I had planned. The last two days had been a confusing ride, and last night it ended in another passionate night with a man I really shouldn't be sleeping with. 

It was just supposed to be fun. It had never meant to be anything deeper than just scratching an itch, but after last night, I questioned just how much we were keeping to that. I mean, we never really talked about what happened the first time... or the second time... but by the third time, I was pretty sure 'casual fucking' was in the picture.

But last night hadn't felt just casual.

The soreness of my body and my head spoke of that the next morning as I woke up, feeling completely satisfied, but also strangely... strange. A dangerous feeling, in my opinion.

Opening my eyes slowly, I blinked in the harsh sunlight and realized I had to have slept in again. A quick assessment of the bed told me Harry was up and awake before me as usual, probably already showered and down in his study, reading or calculating whatever—

The door across the room to my bathroom opened, and out walked Harry. I should've been used to seeing him coming out of the bathroom since I seemed to be three for three now, but I still wasn't. His daily schedule seemed to start half an hour before mine, but I sure didn't mind as I watched the show that started as he came out of the bathroom, looking quite edible.

"Do you ever sleep in?" I asked with a hoarse voice, spent from being used to moan repeatedly and breathlessly last night. At the sound of my voice, Harry peaked up as he started putting on his clothes from yesterday. I wondered if he had used my bath products, or the complementary ones that had been here when I came, like at a hotel.

"I try not to make a habit of it," He replied while buttoning up his shirt.

I bit my lip and watched him cover up his body. The same masculine body I had clung to last night... his somehow perfectly broad, but-not-too-broad shoulders, a perfect fit for his hips and height. His upper body which was just the right amount of defined to show he took care of himself without caring so much about six packs or eight packs and all that stuff. His pecs were firm and his arms were strong, strong enough to hold me last night when the last of my strength had expired as I had been on top of him, taking all of his length to the very hilt.

Looking at him all over again, I felt the soreness throb in my body with that extra masochistic urge to feel even more of it right this moment. I wondered what he would do if I rolled over and slid to my hands and knees and presented to him like some wanton dog... but even I had some pride, thank goodness me.

– Too bad I lacked shame and a filter, though.

"I wouldn't mind if we made this a habit," I now said, seeing him ignore my gaze, but listen to my words as he sat down on my divan to tie up his shoes. "In fact, I think it might even make me study harder. You said it yourself, sex is a stimulant."

"When used correctly. Yes," He replied with a subtle smile. Then, rising to his feet, he straightened out. "I don't think you would benefit from too much of it, though."

"Are you saying I'll become an addict?"

"That would be conceited of me to presume."

"But that is what you're saying, isn't it?"

"I'm saying you could benefit from some discipline," He said, fixing the last of his appearance with a few tweaks. Then, combing his hand through his hair, he walked towards me when I pursed my lips naughtily.

"I'm open to spanking if that's what you're suggesting," I smirked shamelessly and now rolled over on my stomach, letting my asscheek peak out from under the covers. I watched him over my shoulder as he shook his head slowly, but it definitely wasn't a no I was sensing coming from him.