Page 80 of Vameer

Relief and belonging and a sense of rightness pour over me as the body against my back purrs.

Emotion wraps itself around my throat as the soothing vibrations soak into my bones.

Please let this be real.

My head swims. And I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a thunderstorm that I never want to leave.

The chest at my back rises and falls with breath. In sync with mine.

I need this to be real.

Then the hand, wearing my missing bracelet, lowers. Slowly. Glacially. Until the large palm settles on my shoulder. Against my bare skin.

The heat of his touch is immense. A sound of pleasure seeps from my lungs. And his other hand grips the flare of my hip.

Fabric separates our skin there, but the heat is no less intense.

The vibration of his purr rolls through his fingertips. Molten tendrils of desire crawl across my skin, sinking into my stomach. Then lower.

I lean into the sturdiness at my back, feeling him everywhere.

Loving the way he’s surrounding me.

Gods, he’s so… big.

His hands. His body. The hardness pressing into my lower back…

My thighs clench as my core throbs with desire.

“Tell me you’re real.” My plea comes out as a whisper.

Long fingers flex against my body. “I am real, Mon Coeur.”

My eyelids flutter at the feel of his voice as it rumbles out of his chest.

I heard it before. Through my bathroom mirror.

I’d recognize it anywhere. But hearing it in person. Feeling it against my person…

It’s the best sound.

Deep. Gravelly. Thick. Accented. Mine.

I reach down and press my hand on top of his against my hip.

His muscles and tendons jump as he flexes his grip once more, his fingers digging into the softness of my body.

Needing to hold him, I slide my palm over the back of his hand, feeling how hot his skin is, feeling how much bigger he is, until I reach his fingers. Then I wrap mine around his pointer finger. Gripping him. Never wanting to let go.

The body behind me shifts, and I feel his exhale dance through my hair. “Tell me your name.”

Gripping his finger, I reach my other hand up.

As my hand nears his, he slides his palm forward, down from my shoulder, so it’s flat against my chest. Over my heartbeat.

It’s intimate. Not something I should let an unseen stranger do.

But he’s not a stranger.