“Okay,” I breath as he slides out, then slams in. “Fuck!”
“God, you’re so fucking wet, June. So fucking wet and tight and perfect. And mine. All fucking mine.” My fingers dig into his ass, trying to get him deeper, to get more of his skin on mine as I gasp and writhe on the bed, pleasure deepening and growing in my belly.
“Yes, yes,” I moan, the words coming out breathy and nearly incoherent. “Yours. Fuck, I’m yours.” A deep groan leaves his chest with my words, his head falling into my neck as his hips start to move faster, fucking me harder than before, grunting with each movement.
“All mine. You’re all mine, June. I’m never letting you go,” he moans, and my orgasm starts to crest. I don’t know if it’s just the long build-up to this, or his words or the pace, or what, but I’m tipping the edge in moments, my nails digging into his back as I hold him close, trying to hold on, to savor every moment.
“Now,” he groans, slamming in, head lifting to look at me. “Come with me.”
That’s what does it.
Or maybe it’s the way his eyes lock on mine, the way his face goes somehow soft before the pleasure takes him, as if he wants to cement this moment in his mind, as if he really, truly believes that this is starting our own version of forever, everything and nothing at all changing in a moment.
Either way, I hold his gaze as long as I can before I scream, pleasure washing through me in intense waves as my head falls to the bed, my back arching as I come hard. Graham follows, bellowing my name as he slams in deep, staying there as we both shake with the force of our orgasms.
His body relaxes after a few moments, though he stays planted deep, and I tighten a bit as aftershocks move through me. A small groan leaves his lips before he peppers small kisses to my neck, his scruff scratching along my sensitive skin. My breathing is ragged, and I try to catch it, my heart so full I can’t think straight. A hand lifts, and I brush my fingers through his hair, a small laugh leaving my lips. His head lifts, and he looks at me, a brow raised.
“I guess having only one bed really was lucky, wasn’t it?” I ask, and that shit-eating grin spreads across his face.
“The luckiest,” he says, before we both burst into loud, raucous laughter that, sooner than later, is replaced by soft moans and heavy breathing as we start everything all over again.
TWENTY-SIX
Light streams into the room, pulling me from the deepest sleep I’ve had in some time. I’m warm and groggy and confused as I come back to the land of the living and even more so when I open my eyes, not recognizing the room. It’s not the luxury long-term rental in Seaside Point I’ve been staying in for a few months.
That’s when I realize the warmth is not the sun or even the summer weather, but a body.
Suddenly, the night comes back to me.
The concert, realizing I am into her in a way I couldn’t ignore any longer, and then there being only one available hotel room. June handing me that coin to decide what we’d do next, then not even bothering to check the results of her game of chance before I pulled her into me and kissed her the way I’ve been dying to for weeks.
Now she’s tucked against my side, feeling like she’s always been there, always belonged there. I thought if I ever crossed the line with her, I’d feel panicked. I’d feel shame or embarrassment for my lack of control or be anxious about whether I made the wrong choice.
But instead, I simply feel this strange sense of belonging, something I’ve never really experienced anywhere. It’ssomething that I have a feeling June brings with her everywhere she goes, but I never thought I would be so damned lucky to feel myself.
What feels even better is when her face moves, rubbing on my chest, a small mewl leaving her lips that has my cock instantly hardening.
Fuck, this woman is everything to me.
“Morning,” I murmur tentatively, still unsure what her reaction will be. She was sober last night, but it was a long day, and for all I know, when she wakes up without the exhaustion from the sun, she might have a different perspective on what happened last night. She might want to forget what happened and move on completely. If so, I’ll be disappointed, but like everything with June Taylor, I’ll give her whatever she wants.
I hold my breath as she lifts her head, her eyes hazy as she blinks a few times, trying to wake up.
Then it happens.
Her lips spread, her eyes going warm, her body shifting until her entire chest is pressed against mine, her body lying on top of me.
“I kind of thought that was a dream,” she says, voice croaky with sleep.
“A dream?”
“A good one. A great one.”
I can’t help it—I smile down at her, a hand lifting to push her hair back. At some point, we took a shower together, so it’s smooth and free of the gems, but her hair is so thick that it’s still a bit damp in some places.
“Does that happen often, you dreaming about me fucking you into the mattress?”
A blush burns across her cheeks, and it looks so fucking pretty.
