Page 71 of Meet Cute Magic

His hands are moving, the fingers of one digging into my hips and lifting, guiding me to my knees, and the other going between my legs. I gasp as I feel his thumb on my swollen clit, pressing there before he slides two fingers inside me.

“Already so fucking wet for me,” he groans. I tighten around him at his words. I feel the heat of him beneath me, and even though pleasure fills me as his fingers crook inside of me, it’s not enough.

I need more.

I need him.

“Please,” I groan, my head tipping up, lips parted, desperate for his to touch mine.

“Not yet. I want you to come once for me, then you’re going to slide down onto my cock. When you’re still riding that orgasm, you’re going to fill yourself with me so I can feel it. Then you’re going to take both of us there again.” His words are fire to my already heated body, and I try to lift my head, to get him to kiss me again, desperate for that connection, but he doesn’t give it to me. He keeps his head down, watching where his fingers disappear into my body, where my hips move over them.

“Jack,” I whisper, his fingers working me hard before his head comes to rest on my shoulder, a heavy, heated groan leaving his lips.

“You’re so fucking hot, Rosie. Fuck. Take what you need, baby.” That’s all it takes, that reminder once again that Jack always gives me what I need, always tells me to take what I need after I’ve spent my entire life taking care of others and putting them first. A moment later my head is snapping back, my eyes slamming shut as my body trembles, as I scream his name, drenching his fingers, and I come, hard.

“Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth, his fingers leaving me to move to my hips. The wet feel of them on my skin has my pussy clenching again, even more so when he lines the head of his cock up with my entrance, sliding just the tip in.

“Jack,” I breathe, still confused. He said he wants to initiate the kiss bond, but we haven’t even touched lips since he said it. “Why aren’t—”

But the words are cut short when one hand moves to the back of my head, twining in my hair and tipping it back with a gentleness that isn’t typical for when we’re together like this. My eyes take a moment to focus, pleasure and the promise of more pleasure still moving through me like a drug, before I see his eyes.

He’s hiding nothing.

Desire and need, and utter adoration are clear in his eyes. His hand shifts to my jaw, the other still on my hip, and his thumb moves over my cheek. It should stop me in my tracks, but I can’t do anything but stare at him, sure the same is reflected on my own face.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Rosemary,” he whispers. “I need you to know that. SO fucking beautiful, and so fucking mine.” Confusion tinges my arousal, but I can’t focus on that. Not when I’m throbbing around him, not when he’s stretching me in the most blissful way, not when my mind is still filled with orgasmic bliss. And certainly not when he grabs one of my hands in his, placing it on his cheek and holding it there, his other hand moving to the back of my head to pull me down before I press my lips to his.

It happens, then, that familiar tingle of my magic coating me, leaving me, moving along him. Those ties that start in my chest and end in his, tightening, a now familiar ache setting in and easing with his closeness just as quickly.

The bond feels electric and soft at the same time. That feeling you get when you’ve laughed for hours on end with your best friend, mixed with the butterflies of your crush smiling at you for the first time. In books and testimonies, it’s described as euphoric and ticklish, as a nuisance, and also as orgasmic. It seems everyone has a different take on it, and according to some articles I found, even the person you’re bonding with can make it feel different.

For me, with Jack, it feels like that airy feeling of falling in love. That feeling I’ve been chasing my entire life, the one I’ve been reading about.

I wonder if it would always feel like that. If I kept a bond with someone for eternity, would it always feel like those first days, weeks, or months of falling in love? That blissful feeling of walking on air that I’ve always been told would settle into my soul when I found the person put on this earth to be mine: could the bond replicate it forever?

Thoughts are written over with feelings quickly, thankfully, as he starts to move my hips up and down, helping me to fuck him. We never stop kissing, bumping teeth and nipping at lips, and it doesn’t take long before I come with his lips on mine, the feeling starting in my chest rather than my pussy, though the euphoric feeling of pleasure tightening and then snapping takes over my entire body, and at the same time, he groans into my mouth, finishing with me. His hand on my hips holds me down, trying to get deeper, to join our bodies further than they are somehow, like he wants to somehow find a way to get even closer to me, a feeling I desperately understand, especially right now, when he’s inside of me, when I can feel our hearts beating in time frantically.

CHAPTER 26

Jack

11 days until Halloween

“Hey,” I say as I step into Meet Cute Magic. Rosie’s head pops up and she looks at me, her eyes wide and her smile glowing.

“Hey, you,” she says, setting the books she was organizing aside and moving my way immediately. The glittering strands connecting us flare, as I’ve started to realize they do when her emotions change. This time, it shifts from concentration to happiness as she steps toward me, closing the gap between us. The bond in my chest settles as her arms wrap around my neck, and she presses a kiss to my lips. “You’re early.”

I shrug. “I was slow, figured I’d come see you.” I don’t tell her that when the store got slow and my random tasks dried up, I couldn’t resist the pull of her any longer and closed up early to make my way across the street to her. I find myself wondering how people manage this bond long term, or if, after some time, it starts to settle in with consistency and comfort.

I guess I’ll never find out.

A wash of joy replaces my momentary melancholy as she smiles at me, enjoying my hint of honesty. Ever since we created the second bond, I’ve come to realize that it’s not just the need to be with her that I feel: I also feel her emotions, to a degree. Not enough that, if we were apart, I could pinpoint them, but more like if we’re together and I can hear her voice or see her face, it’s easy for me to distinguish. It’s also been much more manageable than the last time we did a kiss bond, though I think our constant time together and the sex have helped that greatly.

“Well, I’m glad. I’m about to close up anyway,” she says, tipping her head toward the door and moving that way before flipping the sign over to closed. Then she steps to me, putting her arms around my neck and giving me a deeper kiss, her fingers tangling into my hair. My entire body relaxes with her touch, as if to tell me this is exactly what I needed for that slow building tension to ease.

Rosie.

In my arms, her lips on mine.