Page 31 of Sweet Escape

The way his cock spears into me, over and over again, hitting that spot inside me that hasn’t been soothed in who the fuck knows how long ... God, I can barely handle it.

My entire body is a live wire, and Memphis is the fuse.

He adjusts where he’s holding up my leg, opening me wider, and I scramble to ground myself. My arms are wrapped around him and slipped up under his shirt, my fingers dragging along his damp skin, trying to find purchase.

“God, you feel amazing,” he whispers, his mouth open and sucking against my neck. Then his head raises and his eyes drop to my breasts bouncing between us. “Pinch your nipples.”

My hand moves immediately, following his direction. And when I pinch at one, and then the other, my pussy flutters around him.

He bites out a quiet curse as his movements stutter for a beat or two, but then he’s grabbing my other leg and lifting that up as well, the entire weight of me now balanced on his arms and braced against the door.

I thread my hands into his hair again and yank his mouth back to mine, sucking at his tongue and moaning as quietly as I can until I can barely handle the tension coiling inside me.

“I’m close,” I tell him. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

His voice comes out in a rumble. “Rub your clit,” he tells me. “I’ll be right behind you.”

I slip my hand between us and strum against my little nub, hardly needing to touch it before I splinter apart. Ecstasy ripples through me, starting where we’re joined and then shooting outward, up my middle and out to my limbs, tingling in my fingers and toes and all along my scalp. All of it made more intense by the effort it takes to stay quiet and not scream out the way I want to.

I dig my fingernails into his shoulders, my head falling back and hitting the door behind me with a thump.

“I’m there,” he says, and then his body jolts, the fluidity of his movements becoming jerky and uncontrolled as he follows me to bliss.

We stay there for a long moment, each of us panting loudly in the quiet room, our bodies still pressed together and slick with sweat.

I was wrong before about wanting to be split in two. That’s not what I want.

Thisis what I want.

I didn’t split in half.

I shattered into a million fucking pieces.

And it’s never felt so amazing to be falling apart.

Chapter Seven

Memphis

I pull out and lower Vivian’s legs to the ground one at a time, bracing her as she wobbles slightly.

My arms and back are killing me, and I’m thankful for the brief reprieve the darkness provides so I can stretch my aching muscles for a second before I flip on the lights. Then I reach for the switch somewhere along the wall, squinting at the harsh brightness once I find it, my eyes unaccustomed to it after so long in the dark.

“You couldn’t have waited until I put my clothes back on?” she asks teasingly.

I rake my eyes over her, taking in her very disheveled state—her jeans and panties on the floor around one ankle, one shoe missing, her top and bra tugged down, her breasts exposed, her mane of hair wild around her face where her mascara is smudged and her cheeks are flushed.

Fuck, it’s sexy as hell looking at her and knowing I did that.

And I love it even more that she stands there with confidence, not caring in the slightest.

“Why would I want to wait?” I tease back. “The point was so I could see you naked with the lights on.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile there, and I don’t miss the way her eyes flick up and down as I tug off the condom and tuck myself back into my pants.

“Easy to say when you’re still mostly dressed.”

I shrug, grabbing a tissue and chucking the condom in the trash. “Next time, I’ll make sure I’m completely in the buff.”

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