Page 34 of Up In Flames

“Because,” I say, “what we just did—what we’re still doing—wasn’t just sex for me. I don’t…” And I don’t have the words to describe it, except with poetry, and saying those words would be even more weird.

“Just say it. Come on, Jelly Bean. Be brave.”

I blow out a long breath. “Fine. The fucking was transcendent, okay? You just made me feel eternal, like the sea washing to shore, or like I’m connected to the earth in new ways, and even like I can feel the universe spin through my blood. You being inside me feels so damned right. It’s like vampire romance, without the darkness, but right, because there was so much light. Which is ridiculous, but…” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Like that. You deserve to feel that, because it was… it is… truly awesome what you make me feel.”

He smiles a long, slow smile, lips closed over his double rows of teeth.

“That’s a Cheshire grin if ever I saw one.” But I pause to regroup. “I write about sex all the time in my romances. Everything is kink and pain and blood, so I know about the hard edges of passion, but only intellectually. And I know about perfection, that perfect lift of orgasm, in the same way. In real life, though, sex has been kind of just okay for me. And I know great sex depends on arousal, and feeling safe with someone, like I guess I must feel with you, though it’s hard to believe given we were enemies until two minutes ago. But I want you to feel that with me, too, only I think… I think you probably need more than straightforward fucking to get there, right?”

“You think I can’t find transcendent, earth-shattering bliss unless I’m using a flogger?”

I shrug. I don’t know. “I just want you to feel this. Is that so strange?”

Because what if I’m the only one who feels the cord now stretched between us? Maybe I’m the only one who felt that caverning feeling, as if my body made a pact with him, forever. Maybe he thinks this was just casual and fun… like what I thought it would be, until it suddenly wasn’t.

I freaked earlier when he mentioned a connection between us. All I wanted was sex. But now? Now, I’m not so sure.

Jeez, Nina, why don’t you just ask him for monogamy and a ring? Way to lose a guy in three minutes of post-coital bliss. Yet another entry into those global records, and again, not for the right reason.

“I’ve read your books, you know. I think you might be missing the point of what you write. Ever study your own work?” His fingers are gentle against my face, stroking me, but every part of me tenses at his words.

“You’ve read my books? Talk about mortified.”

“I read all your books. There’s a small chance that I’ve been obsessed with you for years.”

“You were?”

His smile is sweet. “I guess so. I didn’t realize it, but yeah. Seems that way.” He suddenly laughs. “I especially liked how Victor gave Simone ten orgasms in the closet, while the band played just outside the door. And those binder clips he used… I would think that would hurt a little too much, but you made it sound okay. Plus, vampires. They’re a little shady.”

Fine, I’m mortified, but less so than I should be, because Sampson’s still inside me, and for some ridiculous reason, I trust him not to hurt me now, not physically, and not mentally or emotionally. And not with binder clips, which had to be my stupidest sex scene, ever.

“You think the sex was great because I can do this.” He grabs my hips, lifts me to his tip, before plunging me down over him again, raking every inch of me with acid sweetness. “Man, that feels incredible,” he groans.

And it does. So very, very incredible.

He pumps once more before stilling. “To answer your original questions, I think the physical reason you felt our union as strongly as you did is because I’ve been lucky enough to study women. And what I found most was that women need to be admired. Lucky for the both of us, I admire you like rockets.”

I giggle at his comparison. “Like rockets?”

“Full blast off, lots of sparks, loads of fire. It’s an adoration that can’t be faked no matter what people claim. That’s what you needed. That’s what I needed, too. I needed to adore you.”

“And do you? Adore me?” My words are so quiet, I can barely hear them.

He lifts his head to nuzzle into my neck, his tongue doing special swirls that light up my skin. “I adore you,” he whispers against my flesh, hot breath on cooling kiss. “I always have, even when I thought I hated you. And for the record, I don’t need anything other than this. You give me you, and that’s everything. No spanking bench or binder clips necessary.”

But before I can ask him if he adores me more than any other women, before I can truly make a fool of myself, he lies back. “We’re meant to be, Jelly Bean.”

“We are?”

He nods before lifting my falling hair back behind my ear. It only falls again. “There’s no kink you need to get into to please me. Want to know a secret?”

“A secret?” And instantly I’m distracted. I might as well have ADHD, the way I can be led down any path put in front of me, but this one seems far more promising than most.

He nods again and brushes my cheekbone with his fingertips. “My secret kink is making women feel good. I like to find that spot, that amount of force, that direction, that toy… whatever it is at the moment, because if the woman I’m with is blissed out, then so am I. That’s the honest truth, even if it’s not very manly to admit it.”

“So, if I say I want you on your knees?”

“I’ll be there before you can finish the order.”