17. Chapter Seventeen #3
I tighten my hand to make her breath hitch, but not enough to scare her. Her body jerks in my arms, a little whimper falling from her lips.
I let go, allowing the air to rush back into her lungs.
It’s a taste. A promise of what’s to come.
“You ready?” I murmur, still thrusting into her, relentless.
She nods, head dropping onto my shoulder, words lost, her body doing all the talking.
My fingers close around her throat again, a little more pressure, and my other hand drops to her clit, rolling it, rubbing it hard and fast.
Her body coils tight.
“Here we go,” I say, breath harsh. “Now.”
I release her throat and pinch her clit at the same time.
She detonates.
Her pussy seizes around my cock in a tight lock. She sucks in a lungful of air and screams, the sound tearing free and echoing off the walls as she comes, shaking, clamping down on me, trying to drag me deeper.
She collapses forward, arms giving out, face pressed into the couch again. Her ass is still tipped up to keep me inside her. Dark hair is plastered to her skin in messy strands. She drags in breath after ragged breath.
It’s the best fucking sight in the world.
Nothing gives me more satisfaction than knowing my woman is wrecked and sated because of me.
I slam into her a few more times, chasing my own release, and it surges up fast. When it breaks, it’s a roar wrenched from somewhere deep, spilling out of me and into her, hips jerking through the aftershocks.
My vision whites out.
Coming with her is different. My soul is being wrenched from my body.
I lean forward, panting into her shoulder, getting my bearings while her body quivers underneath mine.
Then she starts to shake.
I pull out and move back, a hand on her hip. “Vi?”
Her shoulders keep shaking. For a horrifying moment, ice slides through my veins. “Vi. Hey.” I reach around and tilt her chin up.
She rolls onto her back, face slanted toward me—and she’s laughing. She’s laughing so hard that she’s curled in on herself with a hand on her stomach.
Relief punches through me, then amusement, then both mixed together until I’m chuckling, too, quietly at first, then louder.
“You’re lucky my ego’s big enough that your giggling isn’t going to give me a complex,” I say, breathless.
“I’m sor—” she tries to get out between gasps. “I’m sorry, but your dick is so fucking huge.”
She’s still cackling, sprawled on her back, hair a wreck, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. “Sex with you is just so . . . intense,” she says. “I don’t know how else to explain it. It’s . . . a lot.”
My smile falters.
She sees it and sits up fast, cupping my face in both her hands. “No. Not like that.” Her thumbs stroke my cheekbones. “It’s overwhelming, I think, but in a good way. It’s . . . emotional. That’s the only word I’ve got. I’m not saying it right.” She shakes her head.
“I get it,” I say, and I mean it. I kiss her slowly, tongue sliding against hers, softer than before. “It’s the same for me. Takes the ‘little death’ thing to a whole new level.”
“Right?” she replies on a breath.
I glance down.
There’s a mess of cum between her thighs and on the couch. Mine and hers, everywhere.
“Shit,” I groan. “That’s the second time we’ve forgotten condoms.” I look back at her. “I’m clean. I’ve never fucked anyone raw in my life.”
“I know. There’s no way I’d ever think you’d put me at risk. I’m on birth control, and we’re regularly tested at Eden.”
The word Eden puts a small crack in the post-sex high.
I don’t give a fuck that she works there. What she does with her body is her choice. Full stop. What gets me is that she took that job because of me. Because of what I said that night on the couch.
The guilt eats at me.
I reach over to the table beside the couch and grab my smokes, tap one out, and flick the lighter. It takes three tries before the flame catches; my hand’s shaking again. The nicotine hits, finally mellowing me out.
Usually, by now, I’d have a quarter of a bottle of whiskey in me, riding out the comedown on a different poison. I made her a promise, though. No more hard stuff. Not on tour while I’m in this limbo.
Weird thing is, I don’t miss it right now.
Her pussy and a smoke are all I need.
“You nervous about tomorrow?” she asks.
She’s curled on her side, one arm folded under her head, hair falling across her collarbone, watching me.
I lift a shoulder. “No. What will be, will be. I can’t change it, so there’s no point spinning out about it.” I watch the smoke twist toward the ceiling.
“I’m coming with you.”
“Sure, assumed you were anyway.”
I take one last drag, then stub the cigarette out in the ashtray and give her ass a light smack. “Come on. Shower with me.”
She groans, but when I hold out my hand, she takes it and lets me pull her up.
“We should probably get back to the after-party,” she says.
“Nah, fuck that.”
I haul her in, kiss her slow and deep, then pull away to look her in the eye. “We’re not hanging out with anyone else,” I tell her. “We’re going back to the hotel. And I’m spending the night buried in some part of your body. Tonight, I’m not sharing you with anyone. You’re mine.”