“My darkness,” he murmurs, nipping a delicate line just above my bikini line.
One hand grips my shirt and whips it overhead; the other tugs my shorts to my knees. He spreads my legs wide, and I catch my breath as his mouth descends, closing over the flesh just above my pubic bone.
“My rain,” he groans, sliding his hot mouth a little lower. “My happy ending.”
His fingers find the slick heat between my thighs; I whimper, my head falling back as he slowly sinks a finger inside me. The world narrows to the exquisite burn of his touch. Then he lowers his lips to my clit, tongue swirling in maddening circles.
“Trav...” I moan, every nerve alight.
“Everything,” he hums against me, voice husky. “Every fucking thing—you are my world.”
I thrust upward, desperate, my nails digging into his broad shoulders. He responds with a growl, licking and sucking until a shockwave of pleasure rips through me—white-hot, blinding—and I shatter around him, world tilting.
I come down from that high trembling, and his hands lift me onto the counter, legs still spread wide for him. He pulls me close, hips pressing against mine before he slides into me slow and deep. My back arches, nails in his forearms as he fucks me, slow and steady, right there on the counter.
“Oh God, Trav...” I gasp, voice raw.
“Fuck,” he growls.
“I need more, more, Trav...”
He answers by pulling out and pounding back in, hard enough to rattle the plates in the cabinet. I latch onto his neck, moans tangling with his guttural sounds. The heat radiating from his body, the slick friction, every sense is alive.
“Come...come for me,” he rasps, voice ragged with need.
I’m trembling, undone, my second climax roaring through me as he drives into me one last time, deep and relentless, until he groans my name and releases inside me. We collapse together, a tangle of sweat-slick limbs and ragged breaths. He pulls out and slides back in once more, still hard, still searching. I open my eyes to catch his, so dark with love and hunger that my heart thrums against my chest.
“Do you know what I’d do for you?” he murmurs, chest rising and falling, still dragging his cock in and out, slowly.
“I know,” I whimper.
He fucks me again.
Slower this time.
He sighs, settling into me with a gentleness that makes my heart ache. His hands cradle my face; his back ripples withsatisfaction as he moves slow and perfect. I stroke the damp strands of hair from his forehead and meet his gaze, feeling as if the universe has narrowed to this moment—his lips on my throat, his body fused to mine.
We have just come down from the second round of bliss when his phone lets off a string of text message alerts. He pulls away reluctantly, eyes narrowing as he checks the screen.
“Janice,” he growls under his breath.
I frown. “What is it?”
“She says her boyfriend’s back,” he mutters, throwing on jeans and a shirt.
“Call the police,” I say urgently.
He shakes his head. “I’ll handle it.”
“Travis, this isn’t for you to handle, can’t you see that?” I say.
He pauses in the hallway, shoulders tense. I force myself to meet his gaze. “I am helping someone in need.”
“But it doesn’t feel right, something just doesn’t feel good about this. Please, just call the police.”
“I can’t. I have to go.”
“Do your words mean anything?” I call, hurt.
He stares at me one more time, hurt flickering in his gaze. “They mean everything, Mischief. If you don’t know that by now, we’re wasting our time.”
He steps out and closes the door, leaving me trembling in the hush of the apartment—his love lingering on my skin, and the ache of his absence heavy in the air.
