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I grip Edmond’s face in my hands, urging him back until I can see his sweet face.
Our eyes lock and everything we feel for each other rushes between us, unspoken but so loud it’s all I can hear. And then I come like a slow-motion train crash—but a good train crash, a beautiful one, staged for the silver screen with no people on board and filmed in stunning 3D.
My orgasm starts where he’s buried deep inside of me, his cock pulsing as he loses control, but it quickly engulfs every inch of my skin, every cell and particle. Gaze still locked on his, I come and come, riding each wave of my release as they grow tighter, hotter, until I think I might be dying, but I’m not upset about it.
As long as I die here, with Edmond, drowning in this pleasure and perfection, I won’t complain.
“I’ll never complain again,” I murmur as we catch our breath after, him heavy on my chest as his cock continues to twitch inside me.
He lifts his head. “Am I hurting you? The floor must be hard.”
“No, don’t leave,” I say, locking my legs around him when he tries to roll away. “I’m memorizing this moment.”
His lips curve, but his gaze is sad as he says, “I do that, too. All the time. But you shouldn’t. It makes things too…bittersweet.”
“I’m okay with bittersweet,” I say, brushing his hair from his forehead. I’m about to tell him I’m okay with any emotion, as long as I get to experience it in bed, naked with him, when a horrified roar shatters the silence.
“It’s okay, Laura, I’m sorry.” Edmond scrambles to cover me with my discarded clothes while keeping one hand over his cock as he searches the ground for his boxers. “We didn’t hear you come back.”
Laura groan-roars again. I don’t speak bear, but I’m pretty certain she’s complaining that her virgin eyes are deeply offended, and she’s now scarred for life after seeing her aunt and uncle screwing like bunnies on the library floor.
“Honey?” I ask, cheeks hot as I toss on my sweater and quickly turn my jeans right side out. “Would honey help? I have a secret stash of local wildflower honey at the bar. It’s one of my secret ingredients, but it’s yours, if you want it. My way of saying I’m sorry.”
Laura plops down on her bottom by a nearby bookcase, grumbling to herself.
I glance at Edmond, who’s back in his boxers and looking amazingly put together for a man who was just thoroughly ravished. “Was that a yes or a no?”
“She’d like the honey, but she’d like a bag of walnuts, too,” he says. “She likes to dip the walnuts in the honey.”
“Done,” I say, clapping my hands. “I’ll bring those over as soon as it’s safe. And sorry. Again. We were—”
“Confused,” Edmond supplies.
It wasn’t the word I would have chosen, but it seems to mollify Laura. She hands over the hair she collected from the mummy, Edmond thanks her, and starts toward the stairs. “We should go,” he says. “There’s a lot to do and not much time.”
“Right, of course,” I say, following him up the staircase until we reach his discarded suit, where he tells me to go ahead of him back to the house.
“I’ll slow you down in this stupid thing,” he adds. “But I’ll find you soon. I want to make sure you have a protection charm in place before sunset.”
I would rather he’d said, “I want to make sure I make love to you again before sunset,” or at the very least, “want to talk more about where we go from here before sunset,” but the kiss he presses to my forehead is sweet and real and I sense that will have to be enough for now.
I hurry back upstairs and start for the mansion, the reds and yellows of the autumn leaves even more vibrant and stunning than they were before. Great sex makes everything better, even my eyesight.
“Maybe you can tell Edmond you have to have sex with him daily to avoid getting contacts,” I mutter to myself as I find a seat on the tram, thankful that I’m the only one on board this morning.
It gives me time to replay every naked moment with Edmond over and over again in my head without worrying about the face I’m making or what other people might think.
It gives me time to seal the memory into my heart and promise myself that I won’t let that be the last time, not by a long shot.
Chapter Eleven
CASEY
Iarrive back at our room just as Amy and Sherry are starting the princess movie a second time.
The maid no longer looks like me, but Amy assures me that seeing “fake mama” was really funny.
“I’m glad,” I say, brushing her wispy hair from her forehead as I wonder what the chances are of raising a well-adjusted child in an environment like this one. Even when we’re not in danger, chaos is the rule not the exception.
