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“Fuck, Scar. You feel so good. Too good.” He breathes against my mouth before taking it with his once more. His tongue works deep passionate strokes against mine as his body begins to move at a more unrelenting pace.
Each thrust becomes harder and less controlled, the atmosphere pinging around us as my body begins to coil tighter and tighter.
“Harder, Westin,” I shamelessly plead.
In an instant, he’s slamming into me with so much force that my body is pushed further up the mattress.
I grip at the sheets trying to hold myself in place as the last remaining amount of control he possesses slips away and his body finally reaches climax. His muscles go tight around me and I feel him swell inside of me.
His groan of pleasure is enough to send me cascading over the edge with him. I stifle the sound by biting down on his shoulder, my entire body rigid against him.
Westin collapses down on top of me, his breathing heavy, his heart pounding violently against my chest, as he buries his face into my hair.
Reality slowly starts to creep back in, the haze of passion lifting, and even though I feel like I should regret this, I don’t. At least not in this moment.
Minutes pass before Westin finally pulls out, by which time I desperately need to step away for a moment.
“I have to go to the bathroom.” I lightly tap his shoulder.
His head pops up and he drops a quick kiss to my lips before moving to stand. Reaching down, he grabs my hands and tugs me upright. I wobble a bit on my feet as my eyes hone in on Westin’s body.
The soft light drifting in from the living room casts a yellow hue over his toned, muscular frame, giving him an almost godlike glow.
I think I forget how to move for a moment but then quickly snap myself out of my fog, making a beeline for the bathroom without a word.
Once inside, I shut the door and stumble further into the room.
I’m at a loss.
I want to be angry with myself.
Hell, I want to hate myself.
Yet for some reason, I don’t. Even though I swore to myself after last time that it would never happen again.
I cross to the vanity and stop, my eyes tracing over my reflection.
I’m a mess.
Tangled hair. Smeared make-up. Flushed cheeks. Yet somehow, the sight has a smile sliding across my lips. Lips that are slightly swollen from Westin’s kiss. Lips that still have his taste lingering on them. I reach my hand up and trace the bottom one with my index finger.
I feel like I’m in a dream.
A perfect dream that I don’t ever want to wake up from.
After quickly cleaning up, I slip on the black, silk robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door and make my way back out into the hallway. It isn’t until I flip off the light and pull the door shut behind me that I realize I’m standing in complete darkness.
Did he turn all the lights off?
“Westin,” I call out hesitantly, having no idea where he is as I feel my way back to the bedroom.
I hear something that sounds like snapping, and seconds later a red glow sails over my head, hitting the floor before rolling into the living room.
Another crack, and this time a yellow glow flies through the air. Followed by green, then blue, and then red again.
I laugh, watching the various colors dart into the hallway from the bedroom.
“What are you doing?” I call to Westin, humor in my voice.
