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GREY
I’m fucked up. Forever destroyed by her… her body, her scent, her touch. I’m completely messed up on the inside, ruined by her. Completed by her.
Holy fuck, is all I can think right now, still buried in her hot sheath, her muscles pulsing around my cock. Entirely spent, a whimper threatens to tear out of my throat as I rock up against her hips a few more times, needing to be deep in her, have her pussy completely wrapped around my cock.
My face pressed into her shoulder, with every heaving breath I take I’m more and more drunk on the scent of her perfume, mingled with sweat and some other scent that is completely and entirely her own—a scent that will haunt me, linger with me. Follow me into meetings about my father’s assassination, into dreams filled with her skin, her breath, the beat of her heart against my chest.
I don’t want to leave.
I don’t want to fucking leave.
She’s still pressed underneath me, and I know I need to pull away, compose myself. Get back to the party before some lowlife fucker who’s just trying to spread information gets ahold of this and ruin hard-won political alliances—or worse, we start round two.
But how the fuck do you just pull away from what happened between us? I’ve never been so fucking aroused in my life, never felt so destroyed and made new by a single woman. Never felt like I was wrecked and then put back together by her own hands, never felt like someone could have so much control over my body, my heart.
I’m ruined. I’m fucking ruined by her. For her. Because of her.
It was meant to be a joke. I was just going to go down on her—torture Arden like she’d just tortured me, but I knew the second I tasted her sweet pussy that it was going to be more than that. I knew the second I buried myself in her that I was completely and utterly fucked.
Her legs tighten around my waist as if she needs me still. As if she can hear my thoughts and knows that we need to pull away but she doesn’t want me to leave. As if she’s just as absolutely destroyed by what happened.
I’m kissing her neck without realizing it, my lips needing to taste her, touch her. They find her shoulder, her earlobe, and then finally—her lips. Arden’s entire body arches to taste me, take my kiss with a mouth that opens without hesitation, my tongue slipping in and deepening the kiss. A crazed, maddened sound comes out of the back of my throat, one I can’t control, and I’m already getting hard inside of her, wanting her, craving her, needing her.
Fuck.
She shifts underneath me, tugging my hand and shoving it down between our bodies so I feel her slick clit underneath my fingertips, swollen and thick for me. Her body shudders into my touch as she reaches her hands around my neck and kisses me so hard our teeth knock together, my hand beginning to stroke her clit and my cock growing harder and harder inside of her until I’m thrusting in her again and at the same time stroking her pussy.
Her thighs begin to shake, a cry tearing from her throat as I feel her clench against my cock over and over, biting down on my lip hard enough to draw blood as she cums on me again, slumping against my body as I thrust into her.
Again and again and again.
Until my body shakes and trembles, my knees so weak I don’t think I can hold her up and we’re falling to the floor and I’m finishing inside of her for the second time, wave after wave of stars flooding my vision as I cum in her pussy over and over again.
Seconds pass. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I told Arden I would make her come so hard she would forget her own damn name, but now I can’t remember mine.
All I can think is Arden.
All I can taste is Arden.
All I can feel is Arden.
Under my body. My cock buried in her pussy, but still not enough. Never enough. Not until I have her absolutely fucking naked under me, not until I can feel her skin burning into my skin, not until I can have her properly, like a fucking man, not a horny teenager who can’t keep himself together.
We catch our breath on the bathroom floor, not saying anything. For the first time since I felt her pussy around my cock and everything else was lost to me, I meet her gaze, my heart stumbling inside of my chest. Her irises are dark, dilated, that look filled with something that makes it hurt to breathe.
She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t reach up and kiss me again. I don’t lean down and take her lips. Sucking in a breath, our chests collide and our hearts beat as one, but we don’t do anything.
Until someone knocks on the bathroom door.
I stifle a groan, reality hitting hard. I hate it. I hate that I have to leave this moment, buried inside of her, without all the hate.
Have I ever really hated her? I wonder. Knowing how fucking good she felt, how could I have ever hated her?
The person knocks again, and this time I do groan, pulling myself out of her and tucking myself back into my pants. Offering her a hand, I help Arden up from the bathroom floor and she adjusts her dress as I adjust my suit, turning on the sink and using a towel to fix the smudge of lipstick on her cheek.
She gestures for me to come a little closer, putting the cold towel on my face and wiping gently. She hardly touches me, just a brush of her fingertips, but my whole body burns against her.
“There,” she says briskly. “Am I good?”
