Page 92 of Offside Angel

“You’re a little overdressed,” she remarks.

I respond with the dramatic unbuttoning of my pants, and her laugh does as much for me as the sight of her. Knowing she’s here and happy… I can’t think of anything I want more than that.

She watches with hungry eyes as I peel my shirt off and toss my clothes in a pile. She sits up to make space for me, her breasts rising out of the water like she’s fucking Aphrodite. Water streams over her shoulders and down her chest. By the time I sink below the surface, I’m rock hard.

Mira notices.

She swirls her finger over the surface of the water. “Did you want a bath, too?”

“No.” I catch her hand and pull her gently towards me, helping her straddle me. “I want you.”

Mira plants her palms on my chest, and everything about her is soft. Her hips, her touch, her smile. Her hair is twisted into a knot on top of her head. Dark strands slip free, sticking to her neck.

“You’re perfect.”

“Tell that to all my bruises,” she mumbles.

With a frown, I lift her arm to look. A deep purple bruise rises out of the bubbles and stains her ribs. I gingerly press my lips to it, tracing the edges with my mouth and my breath.

She tips her head back in a sigh. “How are you making a bruise feel sexy?”

“Because it’s proof you’re still here with me.” I work my way around her ribs, swirling her nipple in my mouth and nipping across her collarbones. “Do you have any idea what went through my head when the police showed up to tell me about your accident?”

She curls her fingers through my hair, pulling me closer. “I’m so sorry.”

I press my tongue to her pulse point, feeling it jump when my hand slides between her legs. The water is warm, but I can still feel how hot she is. “What have I said about apologizing?”

“I’m sorr—I mean…” Her lips part on a sigh, but she’s smiling. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“How about: Please, Zane, have mercy. Fuck me.” I wrap my hand around myself and slide through her folds, back and forth and back and forth. I tease her with my dick, driving us both nearly to the edge faster than should be possible. But it really has been a long time.

Mira rocks against me. “Please, Zane. Have?—”

That’s all she gets out before I slide into her.

Inch by inch, Mira sinks onto me, sealing our bodies together until I’m drowning in her.

I’m shaking with the need to pin her against me and fill her hard and fast, but I move slowly, gently.

“The second I felt you like this, I knew there’d never be anyone else. I knew no one would fit me the way you do.”

It’s not just the sex, even though the sex is genuinely unbelievable. It’s the way we fit in everything. The way her body settles against mine when we’re sleeping. The way we move around the kitchen on sleepy mornings.

“If I’d known it was a test, I would’ve tried harder.” She grips my shoulders and rides me slowly, setting the pace.

I spread my hands across her hips. She gives into my touch, arching against me and mewling. I flick the pebbled point of her nipple with my tongue.

“You’re so goddam edible. There’s nowhere I don’t want to taste.”

“Then do it.” She moves faster. The water laps against the edges of the tub, threatening to spill over, not that I give a shit. The entire place could be underwater, and I’m not sure I’d notice.

“Oh, I will,” I tease, kissing the slope of her throat as I pulse into her, meeting her rocking thrusts. “But first, I want to feel you come.”

She gnaws at her lower lip. “Oh, yeah? Then what?”

We die, I think. That’s what it feels like now—dying in some glorious final bang, pun fully intended. I’m not sure how anyone survives the heat building between our bodies.

“Then I carry you to our bed,” I pant, “and lick you until you come again.”

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