Page 52 of Whiskey Pain


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Piper is begging for me—forme—when she could demand anything, anything at all, and I’d bend over backwards to give it to her.

“You have ruined me.”

But the words are lost in the moaning and sighing as I slide into the only thing in the entire fucking universe that makes sense to me.

She moves her hands down my arms, gripping my forearms as I drive into her. In a quick reversal, I pin her hands to the mattress.

Her back arches, her delicate neck long. I kiss the pulse in her throat and match the rhythm as I pulse between her legs.

“You’re everywhere,” she gasps, straining against my hold on her hands. “Don’t stop.”

I couldn’t if I wanted to. I’m half-crazed, driving us both towards a pleasure I could never have even imagined was possible.

I’ve fucked plenty of women. It’s always been fine. An acceptable way to spend an hour.

But being inside of Piper isspiritual.

“Let me touch you,” she gasps. “Hold me, Timofey.”

I release her hands, and she sits up. I slide her easily onto my lap. We move together like that, our gazes locked, our breath mingling between us in a way that is somehow more intimate than kissing ever could be.

“Like that.” She arches back, grinding down on me as I drive upward. Meeting me thrust for thrust until the tight coil of need in me pleads to release.

I tighten my hold on her waist. “Piper…”

She nods, understanding immediately. “Come with me. Together. Please.”

I slide her perfect body over me and let go. Pleasure pulses in me, bone-deep and all-consuming.

“Fuck, Piper.” I bury my face in her auburn hair.

She whimpers, and I feel her insides clench. She tries to say something, but the words fall from her lips in panting, broken gasps as she shudders. “I—I—You—”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t need to.

Her kiss says everything that needs to be said.

The orgasm lasts damn near forever. When it’s finally over, I loop my arms around her waist and hold her there. I let our heart rates settle and our breathing slow. I hold her until she’s half-asleep on my shoulder.

I’m not sure how I ever thought I could let her go.

But I know that it’s never happening again.

23

PIPER

Timofey cleans me with a warmed washcloth from the bathroom, then curls me naked against his chest. I’m putty in his hands. He could put me here, there, anywhere he likes, and I’d let him.

“It’s unbelievable,” I sigh, arching into the curve of his body.

“The way you’re about to coax another round out of me?” His hand encompasses my hip. “Scientists would have said it’s impossible, but here you are, making me hard again.”

I laugh. “Thisis unbelievable. You and me. Here. Now. If you’d told me two days ago that I’d be here with you like this, I never would have believed it.”

He nuzzles his chin against my shoulder. His stubble scratches me, and I have the sudden dirty thought that I want to feel that between my thighs.

“I would have believed it,” he murmurs.

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