Page 46 of Hexy Beast

So I return the kiss, pouring all of me into it as my hands settle on the high curve of her hips. This time, when she wraps her legs around my waist, there’s nothing between us. She angles her hips so her pussy fits against me, surrounding my cock with slick heat, and I’m so overwhelmed with sensation that I can’t move. I’m hers to do with as she wants, and my girl, she wants a lot. She rocks against me, rubbing herself along the sensitive underside of my cock.

“Fuck, Effie,” is all I can get out when I break the kiss, desperate not to blow yet.

I’m not even inside her, and I’m on the verge of coming. I can’t let that happen, not before she does. Sinking my hands into her hair, I tug her so she’s floating on her back in front of me with her legs spread wide on either side of my hips. Her eyes are closed, and she’s biting down on her bottom lip in anticipation. Fuck. I’d love to sink balls deep in her right now, but instead I reach between us and wrap my hand around the base of my cock. I give it a good hard squeeze before dragging the tip down her wet slit. She lets out a soft moan of appreciation, and I do it again, only this time I trace around her swollen clit.

“Darius,” she cries out.

“You want more?” I ask, letting the head of my dick sit right on the edge of her opening.

Honestly, I’m not sure who this is better or worse for. It’s heaven and hell in the space of a few millimeters. So I decide to push it, rubbing the pad of my thumb around her clit, increasing the speed and the pressure in time with the way her core clenches. Fuck. My dick is weeping pre-cum as I fight not to push my hips forward and bury myself in her soft heat. But the urge to watch her as she comes isn’t a want so much as it’s a need that can’t be denied. I go hard on her clit at the same time that I slip two fingers past my dick inside her, curling them up and rubbing that spot that makes her start mumbling words that don’t make sense beyond yes, now, and that’s it.

Her mouth tenses, and she reaches out into the air as if to grasp something that isn’t there to anchor her to this world. Then her body goes tight, and her hips shoot up as her climax hits, hard, sudden, and intense.

My balls tighten in response as if I can feel all that pleasure surging through my body too, and it’s all I can do not to lose it right then and there. I nearly break a molar when I clamp my jaw shut hard so I can focus on watching Effie as she starts to come back to herself.

She lets out a sigh that sends a shiver through her and lifts her head to look me in the eye. “Give the rest to me, Darius.”

My witch is a greedy one. I appreciate that. Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to tease her a little first while she comes down from that orgasm.

“Just a little,” I say as I give her just the head and then start to stroke my cock with a brutal tightness that verges on too much. “Is that enough? Should I just jerk off into that pussy?”

“Another time,” she says, tugging me closer by closing her legs tighter around my waist. “Right now I want all of you.”

I give her clit one more circle with my thumb before moving my hands to her hips in preparation for what’s coming next. “Demanding, aren’t you?”

“Always,” she says, the word coming out breathy and strong at the same time. “Now fuck me.”

Even if I still had the strength to deny her any longer, my will to do so is long gone. Grasping her hips, I yank her down so she’s impaled on my cock in one swift motion. For a second, I can’t move. It’s all I can do to remember to breathe as sensation overwhelms me. And that’s when I understand the floating. When you’re like this, there is no up or down, right or left. There is only the two of you where you’re joined together like the most pleasurable kind of sensory deprivation there could ever be.

Somehow my dick gets even harder, swelling more, filling up her hot, tight, wet pussy as if we were made for this, for each other. And I snap, my hips moving in time with hers as I plunge deep and sure inside her, fucking her over and over until she comes again, calling my name. The squeeze of her core as she climaxes is all it takes to send me over the edge, and I lose myself in her, clutching her close to me.

I’m still trying to catch my breath and remember my own name (or if I even have a name) when I realize we’re sinking. We land softly on the blanket from the crate—the one only I’m supposed to be able to open. Once I have more than three functioning brain cells, I’ll figure out how she was able to do it, but for now, all I can do is tuck her against my side as we both drift off to sleep.

I’m right on the verge of darkness when it hits me.

I was wrong.

The single month we agreed to for this fake marriage will never be enough time with Effie, and I’m beginning to think that no amount of time ever will be. Isn’t that just about perfect? I’m about to marry the only woman I’ve ever been able to see myself with for the long term, and we’ve already agreed to the timing of the divorce.

Chapter Seventeen

Effie…

I’m a shit sleeper. Always have been. But last night? I woke up once. Darius mumbled something that sounded a lot like “too early,” pulled me closer to the warm brick wall of his chest, and the weirdest thing happened.

I fell asleep.

Hard.

To the point that what finally wakes me up isn’t my own batshit crazy internal alarm clock, but Darius’s chest hair tickling my nose. I’m still coming into the here and now while fighting off a sneeze, but it’s too much. I roll over just in time to keep from putting Darius in the splash zone, grab the corner of the blanket, and let loose with the biggest sneeze of my life. And then I do it again and again, one giant goose honk of a sneeze after another, until I’m considering giving up breathing just to make it stop. Luckily, it doesn’t come to that, and the sneezefest finally ends.

“I hope that doesn’t mean you’re allergic to me,” Darius says, his voice a low, warm rumble.

“Only your chest hair, but don’t worry, you can shave,” I tease as I sit up facing the cave entrance and what had been the waterfall beyond it, which is now a bunch of pine trees.

He rubs circles into my back with his palm in soothing slow motion. “Anything for you.”

And for half a second, I think he actually means it. I mean, he sounds like he does, but of course, it’s just more of the whole banter thing we’ve got going. It’s what we do. We’re shit-talkers. Except I would swear that the sincerity in his tone is real and that he really would do anything for me.