Page 105 of Unhinged Magic
“You’re so ready for me.” I pressed my lips against hers, kissing her slowly. Her pussy soaked my fingers, tightening around them.
“Please.” Her hips rose off the bed, meeting my hand with need.
I slid my boxers off, kicking them away, spreading her wide. A swipe of her most sensitive nerves and she arched into the air once more. When I sank into her, I drank in every breath, every moan.
“Open your eyes,” I whispered, my hand palming her cheek as I rocked my hips against her.
She obliged, her own locking with mine, and the intensity in her gaze almost forced my heart to stop. It pummeled in my chest in a way that scared me shitless. I had never felt so unguarded, so unhinged from myself in my life. If this woman could love me after everything I had done…
Skye stared up at me, her voice a whisper. “I love you so much.”
Her fingers grazed the light stubble on my jaw, and I moved myself higher, grinding against her. I caught her moan with my mouth, her words like fire to my soul. “I love you too.” The words left me effortlessly. “Always.”
Keeping up my rhythm, I made love to her like I had no other woman, and I decided right then that sex this way was severely underrated. Sliding into her repeatedly, each thrust dragged the most visceral feelings from within me. I wanted her to feel them, too. Sliding my hand into her hair, I slowed my thrusts, letting my sensor magic dance on my fingertips, showing her my love for her. Our mate bond joining as one in every sense of the term.
We came together, our lips collecting breathless whispers, magic spiraling around us as we collapsed together, chests heaving, heartsbursting.
The potent, all-consuming enigma that was love.
Skye
IrummagedthroughMom’sgarage, looking for the other wing-back chair I had forgotten was stashed in here. I really didn’t understand why people filled their garages with crap while their expensive cars sat outside in the elements. “Ah! I can see it,” I said, dragging a chest of drawers to the side. “There she is.”
I stared at it, delight tumbling through me at the sight of it.
I turned to look at Wesley, who wrinkled his nose. “Wow, that looks… decrepit.”
He wasn’t wrong. The original covering had ripped over its lifetime, exposing the foam padding poking through tears in many parts of the flimsy fabric.
“Yeah, well, it’s been in here a while.” Years, to be exact.
I remembered Mom ringing me at boarding school, telling me she had bought these at a garage sale, that they were timeless pieces of furniture. My youthful ideology didn’t agree at the time, but I hadn’t questioned her purchase. Out of the pair, this was the last one I had yet to recover.
“That’s really what the one in your room used to look like?” Wesley asked, bemused.
I nodded, removing some boxes piled upon its seat, swiping at the plume of dust it released. “Sure did. Isn’t she a beauty?”
“You can really makethatlook half-decent again?”
I set my hands on my hips, admiring the ratty piece of furniture. “Yup, the one in my bedroom once looked like this.”
Wesley stepped over some boxes, bending to help me lift it. “If you can make this look new again, you should be sharing this miracle with others,” he said dryly.
“Sharing as in teaching?”
A nod.
I bent at the knee, scooping my hands underneath and lifting it into the air. “I wouldn’t know where to begin teaching people.”
Between us, we managed to get it outside, lifting it out onto the drive to where my car was parked. I had to admit it would be cool being able to share the art of upholstery with the town of Cutters Cove, but I didn’t know where to begin.
“I could help you,” said Wesley simply, lifting the trunk. He lowered the back seats flat to make more room. “You could run classes.”
I contemplated the thought for a whole five seconds as we fit the wingback chair into the back of my car. Wiping my dusty hands on my pants, I fought a sneeze. “I know nothing about business. I’ve only ever worked for someone else. It’s easier that way.”
He sat on the edge of the open trunk, staring up at me with honest eyes. He looked good sitting in the back of my trunk. I bet he would look even better as I rode him in the back seat.
Mind. Out. Of. The. Gutter.
