Page 69 of Our Little Cliche
Breathe?
How do I do that?In… out…
Yes.In, out, in, out.
I have never been so incredibly aroused in my life, and not just because I’m moments from an orgasm. This isfardeeper than that. I feel like I’m unshackling. As if I’ve just discovered that I’ve been locked up. Gated. Not that Cyrus is the oneunlocking me, but rather showing me I’ve possessed the key this whole time.
Instinctively, I close my eyes, rolling my head back against the sofa to focus and bring my orgasm to its peak. Slowly, but surely the pressure builds, and I curl my fingers in acome heremotion against the knot that’s my bingo button.
“Open your eyes, angel. I want to see the way you look when you come for me, thinking of all the things you want me to do to you.”
I comply, then like a crack of fireworks exploding in the sky, that’s all it takes: his god damn sexy voice hitches a ride in my veins like oxygen to my brain, forcing my orgasm to detonate and my body to quiver in a ground-shaking finale.
Another creeps in after it, doubling the already demanding sensations, and I leap into another fitful orgasm without once taking my eyes from Cyrus. And then another, and another until exhaustion wipes me completely.
Soft kisses tickle my forehead, and Cyrus drapes the blanket from the floor over my knees and holds a bottle of water at my lips. “Mmm,” I croak, sipping a few gulps. I try to regain my thoughts but I’m barely able to hold myself up let alone think. I feel so weak.Undone.“I. You. That was…”
Well, I don’t know what that was.
I’ve never had more than one orgasm in a row before, even though I’m not exactly a stranger to touching myself. But something tells me that it won’t be the last—not if he can help it.
“Shh. Drink. Rest.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
CYRUS
“Come on, I got you.”I cloak Holly with my body. She can barely keep her eyes open, much less walk to her room, so being the rugged gentleman I am, I carry her to her room.
To have seen her not break eye contact while her whole world quaked around her with not one, not two, butfourorgasms, is a gift like no other. The amount of adoration I have for her right now is overflowing. Words can’t even begin to describe how much I admire her for allowing her body to be free, and open.
Four. Fucking. Orgasms.
All I had to do was sit there and talk her through it. Something I’ve never done or thought I’d ever experience. And what’s more, is that she will sleep soundly—perfect for tonight.
“Wrap your arms around me, Holly,” I whisper. My solid, hounding erection is proving to make it difficult to maneuver without the thought of it snapping off.
She weakly drapes her arms around the crease of my neck with a cute littlemmmsound, cradling her face into my chest. Heat radiates around my heart holding her against me like this, lost in time as I watch her lashes flutter for the last time, taking refuge in the land of slumber. A doting grin pulls my cheeksback, there is not a mountain I couldn’t climb with her in my arms like this.
I tuck her under the covers—still unclothed, just the way her little story instructed—and kiss her forehead before dimming the lights, and heading to my room where I will spend the next several hours pinching myself. Probably psyching myself up so I don’t chicken out.
And this was allheridea.
Dia-fucking-bolical.
My leg quivers as I sit on the edge of the footboard in nothing but my boxers, toying with the mask in my hands, mustering the confidence to walk down that corridor and sneak into her room. I can feel the beads of sweat lingering at my forehead. How can I bethismuch of a mess?
What if I get it all wrong?
Hold on, what am I talking about? I’m an author—I’ve played this scene in my head ten times over with my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back, and written it twice on paper. I know exactly what I’m doing. And all I need to remember is her words, her instructions.Her screenplay.
Step 1:Lift blanket, stay hidden behind the mask.
Step 2:Tongue, ankle, thighs, then pussy.
Step 3:Kiss her softly, then insert dick.
Step 4:Fuck her soft, then hard.
