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“By the—fucking—Creator!”
His orgasm was so full and hot, I wondered if the condom would hold. I had to pray the Arcadians bought their sexual supplies like their patio furniture, by going for the best. The wish intensified as, unbelievably, Shiraz’s orgasm did. With another groan, he powered into a second release, his body shaking from the effort. Silent with amazement, I clutched him close, letting the passion work its way completely through him, before slackening my grip.
“No.”
His quiet dictate made me jolt a little.
“Do not let go,” he clarified, burrowing his face to the crook of my neck. “Not yet.”
More astonishment—though it was the best kind, as I circled my arms around him once more. Treasured the feel of him against me, his warmth still permeating me. Listened intently as our heartbeats evened out together.
So soon, too soon, the respite was over. He slipped out of me, resting on his heels while peeling the latex from his cock. I scooted up too, shoulders hunching as my brain hurried to throw a force field over my heart.
Why did it feel like trying to put on a dress three sizes too small?
Get over it.
I knew this drill, dammit. Forward, backward, and from half a dozen different other angles. After the jollies got had, the feels got ditched. Granted, I’d gotten a little bonus time due to the honor of being the royal cherry popper, but no way in hell did I think—or could I think—that earned me extra court time from a man about to sign another woman in the fiancée first draft.
It was time to take my ball and go home.
On my own terms.
With at least a little of my dignity intact.
The man would allow me at least that much, especially since I’d turned into a weepy mess on him. No guy alive wanted more time with a woman who’d gone sappy on him, especially during the hot-and-naked part of the night’s fun. And maybe that had happened for the best too. Gave us both an excuse to declare our hornies officially satisfied for each other, and now move the hell on.
There was only one flaw to that thinking.
A pretty huge one.
I was even more horny for Shiraz Cimarron now than I had been an hour ago.
And…shit.
It looked like he couldn’t be more a fan of that thinking, as he returned from tossing the condom, his half-hard erection already leading the way. This time, though, he headed straight for the bed—but turned when he got there, looking expectantly back at me.
“You want to come over here on your own, or shall I order you to it, sweetheart?”
