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I want to argue with him—tell him I get it—but I can barely even keep my head up as he ravishes me with his fingers.
“How I missed eating french fries with you and shooting the shit, and hanging out in the cockpit every night while we talked about everything.”
“Kye, please,” I gasp out. “Just—”
“And how much I missed making you come,” he says. “How gorgeous you are when you’re all pink and pretty and coming around my fingers and my cock. Jesus, you’re fucking exquisite, Fi.”
There’s no woman in the universe who could hear those words, feel his fingers, andnotcome.
I collapse onto my elbows, rolling my head back, and I ride out the orgasm on his hand. Kye fingerfucks me relentlessly, his touch hard and soft in all the right places, and a tender kiss pressed to my inner thigh reminds me he’s right here with me.
I feel the strangest urge to beg him to never let me go again.
So I do.
“Just come here,” I ask. “Just…hold me. Fuck me. Anchor me.”
I don’t know exactly what those words mean, but he doesn’t miss a beat.
“Anything,” he murmurs.
And then he’s climbing into bed, hovering over me—but I take him by the arms and flip him, making sure to get the upper hand by taking advantage of his weaker, human arm. He lays back as I pull off his boxers, tossing them to the side, appreciating the overlapping plates of silver and ivory on his beautiful bronze skin.
This is going to go fast. I don’t have the willpower to play games with him right now.
“I like your upgrades,” I say as I crawl over him, rubbing my drenched pussy against his cock. Kye arches up to me, holding my hips gently in his hands, the mismatched feel of them so familiar that I could cry. “Even prettier than before.”
“You don’t have to flatter me,” he says with a lazy smile, but I put my finger over his lips.
“Yes,” I say, “I do.”
And then I sink down onto him, spearing myself on his length.
Kye shudders, thrusts his hips twice—and then I feel that full-body resonance as his mechanical parts begin to vibrate. None of my other men have this particular skill, and I melt into it as he runs a trembling finger up and down my spine. “Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he groans.
I roll my hips on top of him, my fingers splayed across his chest. I can see his eyes threatening to squeeze shut, but it’s like he doesn’t want to stop looking at me for fear that this will all turn out to be a dream. “I missed all of it, Kye,” I say. “All ofyou.”
He bites his lip, reaching up to run his fingers through my hair. “Me too, princess. Fuck…me too.”
He holds my hips then and starts to fuck me while I ride him, feeling every new plate on his chest, his ribs, his thighs. I lean into the sensation of fullness, of rightness, of finally being in equilibrium again. Because that’s what he is to me—balance, kindness, and the most important part: friendship. I feel so at peace with him inside me that I almost forget we’re all about to run straight toward danger, that every time might be the last.
“I love you,” I gasp. “I love you so much.”
Because I’m not holding anything back anymore. Every thought is his—I don’t have any secrets.
I won’t be keeping secrets from any of them anymore.
“I love you too,” he says as I lean forward to rest my forehead against his. “So fucking much, Fi. I love you so fucking much…”
Our hips roll together, tongues tangling as we whisper those words to each other, fingers curled in the other’s hair. And when I come again, it’s right alongside him, quickly finding the rhythm that we’ve been missing for so long.
I don’t want to roll off of him, so I just stay perched on his cock, feeling how hard he still is for me. I thrust my hips slowly against him, listening to the way his breath hisses out into my ear, then I look down at him, brushing his hair back from his forehead.
“Never again, okay?” I ask.
“Never,” he smiles, and I feel the love in those mismatched eyes. “But now that we’re well-fucked…how about another round of french fries?”
It just reminds me how much I missed this man.
