Page 65 of Dance with the Devil

As ifwemean nothing…

I grip her hips, clutching her to me as I bury my cock so deeply inside of her, she’d have to crawl over my bike to escape me.

If she told me to get off, I would. If she told me to stop, I’d listen. If she told me she regretted bending over my bike, I’d hate it, but I would have no one else to blame but myself for letting my butterfly flutter out of my grasp.

But I need her. Fuck it, I’ve been nothing without her.

And it’s time I give up on this ridiculous attempt at being selfless. I tried. I fuckingfailed. I love this woman, and if she’s willing to give me another chance, I’m going to take it as much as I’m taking her.

“Try,” I tell her, knowing better than to dare Genevieve but unable to stop myself. “I gave it a shot, Genevieve. I tried to stay away. I never wanted you to look at me and relive the nightmares of that place?—”

“How could I, Cross?” she demands, still meeting my gaze. “You’re the only good memories I have about that hellhole. When you were gone, that was all that kept me going.” She inches away from me, but trapped beneath my weight, there isn’t anywhere for her to go as she whispers, “I even stopped dancing.”

My stomach drops. I even start to deflate a little, losing my erection. “You never stop dancing.”

“You were gone. So was the music in my heart. But tonight, when I saw you coming for me from across the dance floor, that’s the first time I wanted to use my body for anything other than existing from one moment to the next.”

I start to withdraw from the warmth of her body. What she said… it’s so eerily similar to how I felt. Both as a kid when myfamily perished, and then when I purposely walked away from Genevieve. “I’m so sorry?—”

“No,” she snaps, and the ferocity has me freezing in place. Well, that, and the way she reaches behind her, jabbing her fingernails in my ass cheeks. “You stop fucking me, then you’ll be sorry. I was bluffing. I don’t care anymore about why you were gone. I just got you back. At least stay with me for now.”

As if trying to keep me closer, she squeezes my cock, trapping me in a vice so holy and tight I couldn’t pull out if I wanted to. My erection comes roaring back to life, but hearing her beg me to stay?

I bow my body over her, pinning her in place as I quicken my pace, giving her every inch I have. “Forever,” I gasp as she scratches her nails up my spine. “You and me, butterfly. We’re forever.”

She makes a soft sound in the back of her throat. I can’t tell if it’s because she’s struck speechless at my fervent vow, or because she starts spasming around me, coming as soon as started pounding into her again, but instead of trying to get away from me again, she arches her back again, taking all of me.

And as I drop my head to her neck, suckling on her skin as I thrust, waiting until I send my body ready to explode, I make sure to give her every last fucking drop I have.

I give myself permission to come once she does. It was a messy fuck, frantic and emotional, but with my post-nut clarity, I realize that she can’t be comfortable with my bike seat digging into her belly. I thrust a few more times, to remind her that I’m here, that I’m not leaving just because we both got off, then I slowly pull out.

A sense of masculine pride fills me as I watch my come dribble out of her well-used pussy. Bending behind her, I press a kiss to her ass, then use my finger to gather up as much of the moisture as I can before dipping it back up inside ofher. Only then when I’m satisfied that I did do I run my palm over the glove of her ass again and murmur, “You feeling okay, butterfly?”

“Mm.”

I laugh. Good enough.

Rising up, feeling a hundred pounds later than I did earlier tonight even though I only lost a couple of ounces, I ease my arms under Genevieve’s. I murmur to her to hold on before lifting her up off of my bike.

She’s boneless, but in a good way. Her expression is one of pure satisfaction as she reaches up, twining her fingers in my hair, holding me to her.

My heart is racing. I’m out of breath, but as I look down at Genevieve, I finally find the words that I should have said a long, long time ago: “I love you.”

She blinks, as though not sure she heard me right. “What?”

“That’s the short version. I love you.”

“I…” Her brows draw together. “Okay. Wait. That’s the short version. What’s the long version?”

I press my thumbs to her cheeks, still staring into her pretty blue eyes. “I’ve watched my world burn, nothing left but ash. But you, my mariposa, my butterfly, mi amor… you are the undying flame that’s transfixed me, and the reason I can love again. I love you, Genevieve Libellula. And I meant it. This isn’t for tonight. This isn’t for now. This isforever.”

And that does it.

The sated look from two seconds ago slides right off of her face. I see a flash of pain, then she shoves me away from her. Swooping down, searching for the pile of our discarded clothing, she tosses my shirt to the side, reaching for her shorts.

I stop her by squatting down, grabbing her wrist. “Talk to me. Genevieve… I spilled my guts out to you. I opened up my goddamn heart. What did I do wrong?”

She hollows her cheeks, but she doesn’t break free of my loose hold. “See. I knew you didn’t get it.”

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