Suddenly, she looks like the cat that licked the cream. She draws her foot up the bed and drops her knee provocatively. “I can be good, Whit. In fact, I think I can be really good. Ditch the condom,Daddy. I have the implant.”
I don’t answer, at least, not immediately. I think my heart might’ve stopped working for a second.Skipped a few beats?Fuck her bare; did I just hear that right?
“I mean, not that you have to.” Her knee begins to close, the insecurity in her tone penetrating my lustful stupor. It’s all I can do not to fall on her to fuck her immediately. I manage to do the latter, but the former happens before I even realize. She is a gift. A fucking gift.
“You’re sure?” I press my lips to the juncture of her neck and shoulder to hide what her offer does to me. The way I feel right now, I’d fuck her while wearing a Marigold glove. “Because if you’re not—”
“You would never put me at risk,” she says, pressing her hand to my cheek.
Her breath hitches as I turn my head and my lips graze her hand. “Your trust undoes me.” Taking her hand in mine, I lift it once more above her head, then push up onto my palms.
“I can’t believe we’re really going to do this.” Her voice trembles with emotion, but I can no longer speak, so I press my lips to hers. It’s a small kiss, but one that seems to take on a life all of its own. Passionate lips and teeth and tongue, the slide of her hot breath across my lips making my abs tense with need, endorphins and chemical lust rushing through my veins.
“Does this not feel real to you?” Do I think it or say it as I drop my hips, sliding the crown of my cock to where she’s so open.
Her reply is all gasp as I breach her so slowly, I know it’s hurting us both.Pain in the best kind of way.“It feels unreal.” Her voice is a delicate slide across my cheek as I stare down the channel between our bodies, past the sacred dips and valleys of her to where her body accepts mine. “My God. Oh, Whit.”
I am bathed in her bliss as I push in fully.
She’s so—Jesus! I’m not sure a word has been invented for how her body feels wrapped around me. Hot. Tight. Silky. All those words and more. Buried to my hilt, inside her, she pulses around me. Her hands scramble at my back as I withdraw, her fingers almost piercing as, with a snap of my hips I drive into her again, my grunt countering her cry.
“You’re so big,” she pants beneath me.
“And you’re perfect. Feel how we fit.” As though I need to prove the point, I cradle her jaw in my hand as I thrust slowly inside her. My eyes dare hers to look away as I fuck her slowly, steadily. When I pull back and drive deep inside her, her gaze never wavers, though the movement would be reason enough. Her eyes on mine, she cries out.
So fucking perfect. It’s all so fucking perfect.
“You feel like you were made for me. Her whimpers turn to cries as I deliver a series of deep, punishing thrusts, our mouths meeting messily on my grunting upthrust.
“Oh, darling.” I tighten my grip as I begin to flex and pump, grinding against her as body coaxes me on. “That’s right,” I rasp as she goes silent. Goes rigid. “Come for me.”
She gasps. I feel it on my face. I feel it pulsing around me.
I groan, undulating above her, not daring to move. “Amelia, I can feel you coming around my cock.”
Her body milks mine for all that it’s worth—and she can have me because right now, there is nothing to stop this from happening. Fire rushes through my veins, white hot and intense, as my own climax begins to build. I’m unable to stop, unable to process the waves of pleasure drowning me as I hammer myself home one final time.
A pulsing rush of sensation overcomes. I see lights and stars, my mind punching out as my body takes over.
19
MIMI
I wakelike I’ve been shaken violently, my body trembling under the sheets. I’m alone, and the room is silent. There are no children kicking a ball in the neighbor’s yard. No hum of the radio playing downstairs in the kitchen. Just the sound of my heart hammering in my ears. It’s disturbingly still, the air around me pitchblack.
Like a coffin.
I jerk upright with a sick sense of panic, pressing my hand over my tripping heart.
I can’t be dead, I think as I glance down, feeling a slight breeze of central air.Dead people aren’t naked. Well, maybe they are at some point, but not in heaven, surely. But then I realize heavenly bodies probably aren’t wrapped in sheets that reek of sex. They don’t smell of masculine shower products.
I rub my cheek against my shoulder and stretch like a cat. I smell like Whit. And rightly so. His bed. His bath. His bathing products he washed me with in middle of the night. I shiver as I recall the soapy slide of him. I can still feel the press of him between my legs.
I fumble for the bedside lamp, then pad across the vast bedroom floor toward the bathroom. Air brushes my skin, a sensation I wouldn’t ordinarily recognize. I feel wholly sensual as I stride across the floor, uninhibited by my nakedness. Am I changed? Has one night with Whit altered me so much? According to the mirror, not so much. I look a fright. My hair looks like a huge tumbleweed, my skin marked and reddened in places my own mouth couldn’t reach. But I am stupidly happy—I mean, who isn’t not to be dead—my smile so ridiculously goofy as I brush my fingers through my hair.
While I might not be dead, I’m pretty sure I got a glimpse of heaven last night during orgasm number two.The first time I felt Whit move inside me. I reach out, gripping the cold stone vanity, screwing my eyes tight as my body undergoes a ripple of sensory memory. It was everything I ever imagined and a thousand times more. His shoulders over me, blocking out the light, made me feel so small. The way he’d moved inside me, he owned me in those moments. The taut length of his neck, his expression almost pained as he’d pressed himself to me, undulating as he’d reached his climax.
It wasn’t sex. It was a communion. A mind-bending, thigh-shaking, religious experience. And I will never feel the same about sex again. Except I will—I’ll feel like this over and over for what’s left of my not quite six-month hiatus from my real life. And if that thought doesn’t make me smile, I don’t know what’s responsible for this ridiculous happy dance!
