Page 13

I bend over the back of the couch, and he doesn't hesitate, chasing after me, lining himself up, his hips at just the right height to slip in with little adjustment. And the moment he presses forward, I grip the couch back so hard I think it will splinter.

He felt glorious when he was filling my mouth, but the way he prods me open before stretching me leaves me breathless, keening desperately as I press back into him. His grip on my hips is absolute, a possessive touch I never want to stop feeling, but he's taking too long, moving too slow. I know he's trying to be gentle, that he’s savoring the moment with his every deep, sharp moan. But I want more of him, deeper, now.

I start pressing back against him harder, gyrating, doing everything I can to make sure that thick head is hitting every inch of me. Without thinking, my hand dives back between my legs, desperate to pick up where it left off. At the same moment, one of his hands reaches inside my shirt to cup my breast, and I press into it, frustrated I didn't bother to get completely naked before now.

The frustration is short-lived as he uses that same hand to gently guide me up, arching me enough so he can plant soft, needy kisses on my neck and the small of my upper back in between thrusts. The combined assault mixed with my own swirling motions is so overwhelming that I can do little more than pant as my body drives me straight through a blinding release, stars exploding behind my eyes that feel so right in the same way that the stars in the sky keep seeming so very wrong.

I fall forward onto the couch, and he follows me down, but I know he didn't finish just by how stiff he still is. I turn into him, spooning as I grip his condom wrapped shaft and stroke it like I’m trying to start a fire. He arches into my touch as I use my other hand to grab his stubbly chin and hold his lips to mine while my tongue claims his. No, not just his tongue; I'm claiming all of him. This man belongs to me; he's always belonged to me, I just didn't know it till now.

In a single satisfying instant, I feel him shudder, his entire body going taut before slumping down onto the couch. I don't stop kissing him; I want him to know it was me, that I did this to him just like what he did for me earlier. My fingers continue to tease his length until he has to stop them, gently pulling my hand to his lips so he can gratefully kiss each digit. I imagine he's thankful for the condoms, not that I wouldn't mind watching him kiss that sticky mess.

He finally catches his breath enough to look at me, and that's the first moment I can really take stock of things. We are both missing our pants, dressed from the waist up, heaving, sweaty from each other's touch, and something about the look in his eye tells me I'm not going to be putting on more clothes any time soon.

"En-tek nefer Kayvon”

His brow furrows. "What?"

"I said you're perfect."

A tired smile tugs at his lips. It doesn’t come as easily as before, but it’s enough as we lean together, ready to lose ourselves in each other again.

Chapter six

Last Night In New York

I’m roused from the twilight of our coupling by a furry tail brushing my nose. Looking up, I see Mittens, reasonably curious if I’ll give her an extra packet of wet food. I answer her with a puff of air from my lips, making her jerk away in disappointment before she trots off.

For the second time this week, I untangle myself from my couch, feeling exhausted in the most rejuvenating way. Kayvon and I were supposed to be exploring stores, but instead, we explored each other. The thought instantly brings a smile to my face as I gently uncurl my arm from around his glistening, sleeping body.

I sit up and look back down at him, feeling a fierce protectiveness well up in me. It takes over, and I gently run my fingers through his hair in a way that feels both caring and possessive. He is mine.

He stirs at my touch, a gentle smile tugging at his lips, instinctively nuzzling into my hand. When his eyes open and meet mine, it’s not just Kayvon I see; it’s as if I’m looking into the eyes of someone I never thought I’d see again. The sensation is overwhelming, and I can’t help but bend down to plant a grateful kiss on his head.

"What time is it?" he groans.

I look up at the sky through the window by the couch. "Five-fifteen."

At that, he jolts upright, the loss of contact causing something to wilt in me. I fight a frown as he stares in concern. "Oh no, the party. I still don't have a costume!"

I stretch, suddenly aware of just how naked we both are at the mention of costumes. My eyes roam over his figure, admiring every olive-skinned inch, a sight that teases my lips into a smirk. "I'm sure they'd be happy to see that."

He looks himself over before realizing what I mean and leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on my lips. "Cute, but I'm pretty sure you'd get jealous of other people ogling me."

He leans back and looks me over, admiring my body like a statue on display at the Met. "I know I would."

My smile deepens. "Fine, I guess this one time we can do the same outfit."

He cocks an eyebrow, confused, then remembers. "You have two mummy costumes?"

"Not exactly."

After a shared shower and a quick change, we walk to Terry’s place carrying two bags: one with snacks (and no more condoms), the other with my makeshift costume and a full roll of toilet paper.

Kayvon looks as handsome as ever in the same outfit from earlier, just with a new shirt and underwear. I’ve opted for leggings and a tight shirt that he insists shows off my “curviest qualities.” I don’t ever remember being this into showing off.

We tried to recover the cowboy hat, but in NYC, you have to grab treasures the moment you find them, or someone else will snatch them away. Kayvon may have lost the hat, but in the last few hours, I’ve resolved never to lose him.

"So your friends live near the museum?" Kayvon asks.