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Flames burst through me, engulfing me.
I cry out, and I am suspended in an ecstasy that I’ve never felt before.
Kai is pumping into me faster, feeding that fire that is blazing inside me, and then he thrusts one more time, and halts.
The world goes still for a moment.
There is that magical sensation of him being inside me.
And the strange tide.
Rippling.
Calming.
Slowly fading.
He presses his lips to my neck. His breathing is heavy. When he finally slides out of me and pulls himself up on his elbows, there is a soft smile on his face.
“I’ve wanted you for so long, baby girl, that I almost died right now.”
We chuckle.
He pushes off me and rolls onto his back and pulls the sheet to cover us both. We turn our heads toward each other and lie in silence for some time.
I want to touch him, wrap my arms around him, and press closer.
I roll onto my side, prop my head with my hand, and study his tattoos. I’ve done it so many times but never studied his front.
God, he is so freaking gorgeous and his eyes are so mischievous that I feel like I would like to have him inside me again.
“Can we do it again some time?” I ask, smiling coyly.
I am fishing for more. For another date. Another moment with him. To know this wasn’t just a one-time thing.
He cushions his head with his forearm. The other snakes under me, wraps around my waist, and pulls me closer, where I have no choice but to put my hand on his chest.
I smile, meeting his gaze.
“I was hoping we would.” His lips stretch in a smile, and he leans over and kisses me, gently sucking on my lower lip, his tongue stroking it but not going any further.
He pulls away and keeps studying me.
His gaze is too prying. We’ve never spent time together after any other things we did. And this is even more intimate.
I lower my eyes to his chest again.
“Do some of these tattoos mean something to you?” I ask.
“Some,” he says.
He never talks much. Like there are secrets that he doesn’t want to let anyone else in on.
His body is an artwork. Shapes. Colors. Ornaments. Creatures. There is a large butterfly wing over his left pectoral. But it doesn’t look girlie, rather like a wing of the Phoenix on fire.
I frown, noticing another shape, a pink flower and petals scattered around it as if blown by the wind.
It’s a peony.
