Page 482 of Lodestar

When she went straight for the zipper, not even bothering to cup me, I grinned in delight as she freed me from the cage of my pants.

After gracing me with a single stroke of my cock, she decided that enough was enough because, before I had the chance to savor her touch, she was bucking onto her knees, dislodging my mouth from her tit, and moving ever nearer so that when she seated herself on my lap again, my dick fell against her slit.

That was my cue to take control.

With one hand holding her panties to the side, I rubbed the tip of my dick over her clit, rasping, “Rock your hips, my Star.” With a soft cry, she obeyed, and I whispered, “You have no idea how gorgeous you are. You light up my fucking life and you don’t even know it, my beautiful, beautiful girl.”

The rocking of her hips increased in its pace until she was breathing heavily. Her arms settled on my shoulders for better traction, and I felt her working her way up, and up, and up.

She was close.

I knew she was.

It was getting easier for her to come, more proof of her healing.

“I am so goddamn proud of you,” I whispered as I tilted her chin down so I could kiss her again.

As I swallowed her moan, I let my dick trace down her slit and encouraged her to pause as I fed the tip into her. When she took me, slowly, inch by inch, we groaned into each other’s mouths.

Gravity helped settle her around me, as did the natural rocking of the car as we drove over a pothole. Thanking fuck for how goddamn slow traffic was in Manhattan, I gripped her outer thighs and encouraged her to ride me.

She was frantic—all jerky, rocky movements as she tried to find her release. Then, I ran the outer edge of my thumb over her clit and she bucked on top of me, stilling, freezing,implodingaround me.

The suddenness stunned me, but I urged her on, not for myself, just so that she could ride out the pleasure, wanting it to flood her, needing it to overwhelm her. Needing to give that to her when she gave me so fucking much, more than she even knew.

When her pussy stopped clutching at me, that was when I moved faster. Bucking from underneath, taking my own pleasure now that hers was complete.

As I exploded into her, she cupped my face and started kissing me. Her hunger for me as powerful as ever.

Coming down was painful but only because the high was so sharp, so fucking sweet.

When she sagged into me and started dotting kisses on my forehead, at the corners of my mouth, and on my chin, I whispered, “What are you doing?”

“Showing you.”

My brows lifted. “What are you showing me?”

But even as I asked the question, I already knew the answer.

“How much I love you.”

Slipping my arms around her waist, I hugged her hard, burying my face into her chest, loving her and needing her and feeling so fucking happy that I didn’t even care about the tux orCarmenor two hours of opera torture anymore.

With her tits smothering me, I mumbled, “I’ll wear the bow tie.”

Her laughter was soft, tinkling. So unlike Star that it was as if I had another woman on my lap. But it wasn’t. It was her.

Mine.

Always fucking mine.

“How do you manage to make everything better?” she whispered, her fingers stroking over my hair.

Another woman and I’d have retreated.Cringed. Instead, I burrowed into her touch. “I don’t.”

“Lies.”

“Do you have a game plan for the aftermath of this?”

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