Page 72 of Our Little Cliche
If you had told me a month ago that I would wind up in some hot Canadian’s house getting woken up to his dick in between my legs, I would have laughed so insanely hard that my own shadow fell off my skin. It’s been just shy of three weeks since I met him and everything of my past is a complete blur.
And I have no idea what that means.
I mean, like, who even was Adam? Where even is Australia? I don’t know… all I know is that neither of them are my home anymore.
My home ishere.
With Cyrus goddamn Stone.
Am I… am I falling for this man?Or am I completely, utterly, and foolishlyin lovewith this man?
Of course I’m in love with him.
How fucking cliché.
Cyrus kisses my neck hungrily, and I don’t know how it happens, but in the blink of an eye my body shifts from underneath him, to suddenly above him—without once letting his cock break free from inside me.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” My accent couldn’t get any more Australian if I wanted it to, looking down at his bare,tattooed, masculine chest. I pant, but I don’t know if it’s because he’s deeper from this angle or because I had no idea that this nerdy Canadian even had tattoos. And bugger me dead, I knew he was a bigger build as everything he wears is a tight fit, but I didn’t realize he wasthisbig.
“What?” he asks in ashit, am I hurting herkind of way, running his hands down my thighs like an apology, then grips his fingers deeply into my hips
“Nothi—”
Ow!
With force, he tilts me in a way that takes him even deeper, halting my sentence.
Fuck, this is deep.
“Holly… don’t do that.”Oh, no. Serious boss Cyrus.“Don’t saynothing.If I’ve taught you anything it’s to be open with me, please.”
“I just… haven’t seen you without a shirt before,” I blink slowly, my tone almost reverent.
“And how does that make you feel?”
I clench around him, then push my ass back, sighing as I take the pressure. “I think you know how that makes me feel.”
“Then rock those hips against me, baby. I want to see you come apart for me again, this time I want it all over my cock.” His tongue passes over his lips and I feel him throbbing inside me impatiently. I could never. I have never, he knows this. But why do I feel like that’s a challenge for him?
Pushing the thought aside, I don’t hesitate, picking up the pace, swaying in a slow, steady rocking motion. Finding a rhythm that I can accommodate without panting too hard, I savor the way his hands look on my skin as he explores my body.
First they wrap around the lowerexposedparts of me, then higher, grabbing my boobs. Instinctively, my back arches as I take in this newfound pleasure knocking me in the depths of my belly button, building…something, like a climax, but deeper,bigger, and with a completely different level of ecstasy.
When I feel like I can’t cope on top anymore he somehow knows this, because he doesthe moveagain, separating the connection this time, ripping me from above him to suddenly below. He pins my wrists above my head with one hand—just like the book—eliciting a moan.
Nipping at my neck, Cyrus moves down slowly, tracing the bite marks with his free hand, and softening the blow. He explores my nipples with his teeth, biting down gently, then uses his knee to spread me apart for him. He releases my wrists, but I don’t move an inch other than to roll my head back when his tongue finds my clit. “Mmm.”
“Say my name for me.” His voice is muffled, peering up at me from between my thighs.
My voice gets caught in my breathlessness, but somehow it comes out. “Cyrus.”
“Again,” he demands a bit louder.
“Cyrus!”
Holy fucking hell this is intense.
“Good girl,” he groans, licking his lips clean of my liquid, then steps off the bed, taking the blanket along with him, and dumps it on the floor.
