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He’s so freaking warm. Like a furnace in the shape of a man, and without even meaning to I’m nudging closer to him. My hands are balled into fists against his chest, and I force them to relax. But then I don’t know what to do with them, so I clasp them tightly together beneath my chin, the gesture of someone in fervent prayer, or maybe someone begging.
I don’t like that either, and with something that feels like a wall inside me breaking, I release my hands from each other and slide them tentatively along his chest, feeling the dark heat of him, the hard muscle, the hair.
The beating of his heart.
It’s hammering almost as hard and fast as mine.
“Did you down a bunch of espresso when I was drinking tea or something?” I say, so surprised and confused that I press my hands harder against him, as if I’d somehow felt him wrong.
“Nope.”
“Adrenaline really is a hell of a drug,” I mutter.
He lets out a chuckle, and I feel the rumble of it under my hands.
“That’s not adrenaline,” he tells me, shifting slightly closer until I feel the unmistakable nudge of his hard cock against my hip. “That’s you, Songbird. You’ve worked your way in between my fucking ribs, and I can’t tell if you’re tearing shit apart in there or putting it all back together.” He rests his chin against the top of my head and murmurs, “Probably both.”
My heart is racing all the faster now, and it’s not because of what he’s saying but because of the unignorable, undeniable hardness at my hip. He’s not moving, not grinding it against me, not doing anything at all to draw attention to it, and yet I can’t think about anything else. His cock burns right through the silk of the pyjamas, like it’s somehow hotter than the rest of him. And maybe it is. Because I remember the bright sting of that heat inside me earlier. The effervescent stretch of his thick shaft invading my pussy. The way he stroked and stabbed, demanding and giving all at the same time. Jamming himself with hungry expertise against a deep place that made every cell in my body shudder and then explode.
He hasn’t cleaned himself off the way I have.
My blood is probably still on him. Dry now, but there all the same.
Why do I feel a sick throb of satisfaction at that thought? The thought that I’ve made my mark on him somehow. Or maybe it’s just because I know he likes it.
You’re claiming my cock with your blood the same way I’ve already stained you with mine. That first night, Songbird, do you remember? When I got shot and bled all over you.
That’s what he groaned, harsh and raw, when he broke me open. And then…
I would have fucking died for you that night.
My stomach drops, and my pussy squeezes so hard that it almost feels like a tiny orgasm. I hurt down there, and I can’t tell if it’s because of what happened tonight…
Or because I feel so strangely empty.
Elio adjusts his position slightly, forcing a thick thigh between mine, his cock jerking away from my hip until its underside is thrust flat against my belly, hooked beneath the pyjama top. Skin to skin.
It’s so quiet, barely a whisper, but in the dense stillness of the room there’s no mistaking Elio’s half-hissed inhale, “Merda.”
I’m not sure my heart is located in my chest any longer, because I feel my pulse strongest in my head and in my clit. Elio must be in the same boat. Because his cock keeps doing these tight little throbs against my belly.
But he still doesn’t do anything about it. Doesn’t grip his shaft to jerk himself or try to make me touch him. He just lies against me, chest heaving with slightly unsteady breaths, cock twitching.
I feel like the tension is going to crack my skull in half. Finally, I blurt out, “You can’t possibly mean to sleep like that!”
“Like what?” is his maddening reply.
This man. This fucking man.
“Like… Like this! Like… How you are!”
“You mean so hard I’m on the verge of trying to fuck your goddamn belly button?”
My cheeks flame.
“Well, for lack of a more elegant way to say it, yes!”
“You don’t need to worry about that, Deirdre. You need sleep and I plan to let you get it. My blue balls are none of your concern tonight.”
