Page 81 of Wicked Me
I growled and grabbed her hips to guide her along my dick in slow, lingering thrusts, then propped my arm on the bed to lean over her. With my free hand, I reached around and found her clit. My fingers stroked both her and myself when I sank into her, and we rode my palm together.
Her gasps turned to pants. She pressed her back into my chest until we both knelt on our knees without breaking rhythm. Her hand found mine between her legs, and her other wound around my neck to guide my face toward hers.
“Don’t...stop,” she breathed, her brown eyes fevered, then kissed me like she needed the air from my lungs.
And I gave it to her. I gave her all of me and more until the trembling inside her gripped my dick, milking it while my fingers milked her. Then surrounded with her naked skin, her spicy candy smell, her silky hair tickling my chest, I came home. Hard and fast and so,sogood.
She smiled against my mouth, kissing away my growl, and we collapsed onto the sheets. Every part of our bodies touched while we dozed. I held her tighter, determined to never let her go.
Until something rumbled. Not thunder, but something closer.
I pulled back and looked at Paige to see if she’d heard it, too.
Red colored her cheeks as she lowered her gaze to my chest. “I’m starving.”
“That was your stomach?”
“Yes, Sam.” Her eyebrows bunched together in that adorable way they did when she was irritated with me. “Not all of us are stallions and can match your stamina. I need sustenance.”
“So, I’m a stallion, huh? I’m trying really hard not to neigh right now.”
She laughed and squirmed out of my arms toward the edge of the bed. “Let’s go.” She grabbed her clothes from the floor and strolled toward the bathroom, her naked beauty and just-fucked hairstyle on full-on, glorious, chub-inducing display. Sunlight filtered through the half-closed blinds in long, glowing stripes that carried sun dust across her skin.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re beautiful?” I asked.
She glanced over her shoulder while picking up a dropped shirt. “Yes.”
I propped my head up on my hands to enjoy the view. “They’re liars, all of them.”
“Uh...” Her eyes narrowed. “Fuck you?”
“You’re better than beautiful. You’re a piece of art out of the minds of the best goddamn artists. You’re an inspiration for a fucking religion.” I held her gaze so she knew I meant every word. “Perfect.”
She swallowed, her gaze veering away somewhere far off, and hugged her clothes tighter to her body. “I’m not perfect. Not even close.”
Interesting that she chose to home in on that. I wasn’t trying to embarrass her or anything, but apparently I get compliment happy after sex with someone I’ve been in love with more than half my life. So sue me.
“We all have pasts. Some of ours are more...lively.” I shrugged. “Maybe someday you’ll tell me about yours, but in the meantime, I’m placing you on a pedestal where you belong.”
That faraway look in her eyes vanished with a quick, almost angry squint, like she had to concentrate to get rid of it. “So I’m now on a pedestal... which means I’m the equivalent of a house on stilts during the zombie apocalypse.”
I gave her a slow smile she met with one of her own. I fucking loved the sharp turns her mind took.
“Surrounded with bubble wrap,” she continued.
“Naked, of course,” I said, eyeing some side-boob. “If you’re the equivalent of a house, you have to be naked. It’s only fair.”
“Fine, I’m a naked house.” She laughed. “But what about you?”
“What about me?”
“I think it’s safe to say you pedastaled your way onto a house on stilts when I saw you in the library.”
“Oh?” I liked this blushing kind of honesty we were doing under the disguise of zombie apocalypse preparedness. “And did I pedestal a very naked, very hard house on stilts up next to yours?”
“I’m pretty sure your house wound upinsidemy house.”
I grinned. “Lucky house.”
