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He redoubled his pace, fucking me into the soft carpet and the hard floor beneath so good, so goddamned good—
I clenched and came again, and that was his fucking breaking point.
He pumped into me and swore, “Fuck, best I ever had, fucking golden pussy, never want anyone else, never, best, perfect, you’re perfect, fuck I adore you, fuck, oh fuck, only you, always you, only you, here it comes, oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!” The last word was a shout, and he clutched my body to him. I clenched around him as we hit that sweet hot fucking light together and exploded into a million fucking pieces.
Sully slumped over me, breathing so heavy.
I was busy floating.
Right up out of my body, somewhere up around the ceiling.
At the same time, I was in my fingertips. In them!
Tingling. Floating. Swirling.
There were colors. So many colors.
My soul was giggling.
This drink… what was in this drink to make me so… bright? Bright. Bright. So bright.
Sully so warm. Skin on my skin.
“I like you. So much,” I confessed, my voice sounding foreign to my ears that felt… odd.
Sully shifted, a beautiful smile lighting up his face. He didn’t smile enough. He should smile more. I reached out a finger and traced the beautiful line of his lips. Up one side of his mouth and then down the tip of his luscious lip over to the other side. Pretty pretty lip.
One of his heavy, sexy sexy eyebrows lifted. Did he hear me? Did I speak out loud?
“Pretty lip?” he asked. He sounded amused by me. But even as I watched him, his plum-chocolate eyes deepened and shone. He blinked and the smile dropped off his face.
“Why do I feel so… I feel different,” I said, not hating it at all, but confused by how traces of light seemed to follow every one of Sully’s movements.
“High. We’re high,” he said. Or did I just think he said it? “You’re beautifully high. I’ve had absinthe before, and it was nothing like this. This is something…” He closed his eyes and stretched his neck like a lion straightening and expanding into its skin.
Then he opened his eyes, and they settled back on me like I was just the prey he was looking for. But it was more than that. There was a light, and a warmth, and a possession there. “This is something else,” he whispered in his deep, rumbling bass that I loved. I loved how it rumbled from the chasm of his chest and vibrated into mine because our bodies were touching.
It was like he was seeing me for the first time all over again. But his usual masks weren’t up. He looked… he looked in awe at what he was seeing.
I quickly looked over my shoulder, but no one else was there. It was still just me in the room.
He reached out one of his thick, sturdy fingers and ran it down the slope of my nose. I giggled at the feel of the touch.
And finally, his smile returned. “I like that sound,” he murmured, his syllables seeming to drag out. Then he was climbing back over me.
I settled on my back on the carpet and he braced himself, sliding one of his knees between my thighs, elbows on either side of my head.
He explored my face with his fingers.
But his face wasn’t like normal. He wasn’t wearing a sarcastic expression, or a smirk, or any other of his normal guarded looks.
There was this look of pure… concentration. He bit the corner of his bottom lip as he explored the line of my nose and then my cheeks, fanning out his fingers to explore my every contour.
And every point of contact felt like the sparkle-explosion of fireworks.
My nipples hardened to rock-tipped points.
Sully was between my legs and even though we’d just finished having sex, he thickened again, hard as stone against my inner thigh.
He made no move to do anything about it, though. He just kept exploring my face with the gentlest touch, in spite of his big, brutal fingers.
I came, my entire body arching up against him. I couldn’t help it and didn’t want to.
That got another smile out of him, one of the wicked, knowing ones I liked best.
And then his eyes moved down to my lips.
He looked completely mesmerized.
“Do you have any idea how absolutely fucking gorgeous you are?” he whispered. “You aren’t anything like the other girls. You aren’t fake. You aren’t a Barbie. You’re real. Jesus, you’re so fucking real. You drive me crazy. You’re all I can think about. I’m obsessed with you. I want to worship this body all day long.”
He clenched my waist and down to my hips, massaging my flesh, but not on the side of the still-healing brand. On the other side, though, he massaged deep. “I want to make you feel so fucking good—”
