Page 45 of The 7 Rules of Moving On
She knew she’d lose him again tomorrow, but he was here now. And as long as she could remember that goodbye was right around the corner, no matter how good it felt to stare into his eyes or run her hands up his chest, she could do this. She could have him and still let him go. Just like the northern lights above the pool, they could be glorious for one night and then gone the next. Because who would refuse to look up at the night sky only because they were scared nothing would ever compare to how they felt under the swirling dance of blue and green and pink?
That was tonight, that was Trig, as rare and magnificent as the northern lights. And Kissie was looking up.
“I want you,” she told him, ignoring her rules, ignoring that voice in her head, ignoring everything except his heart beating under her fingertips. “I want you bare, and I want you right now.”
His smile was slow to arrive, but when it did—so sweet but more than a little wicked—she wanted to get lost in it until the sun rose.
Ducking down, he picked her up into his arms and carried her to his bed.
“How do you like it?” he asked, laying her down and settling himself between her legs. “Do you like it soft,” he kissed her neck, “or hard? Fast,” he kissed her mouth, “or slow?”
“I want all of it,” she gasped, her head falling back, exposing her throat to him when she felt him, long and hard against her thigh. “With you, I want everything.”
Reaching down, taking himself in hand, he started sliding the head of his cock up and down over her clit. “I want to give you everything, Kissie.”
She was so worked up already she thought she might come just from his slow, soft brushes. “Trig, I want you to make me come.”
Kissing her again, he whispered, “Only once?” against her lips.
“No. I mean, I want you to try to make me come during sex. I’ve never been able to, but I don’t think anyone has ever really tried either. Because I’ve never asked. But,” she made a strangled sound when he pressed between her folds, pushing inside the barest amount before pulling back out again, “I’m asking now. Will you try?”
“Kissie Mitchell,” he said, staring down at her as he pushed inside her again. “It would be my fucking pleasure.”
Exhaling with something like relief mixed with anticipation, maybe a little fear, she started to say, “Thank yo—” but the roll of his hips, the way he slid a few inches into her and back out, then did it again, caressing her, stroking her right where she needed it and no deeper, she could only close her eyes and hang on.
“How’s this?”
“Good. So good,” she managed.
“Faster?”
She shook her head. “No. Don’t change anything.”
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he told her, his hips rolling as steadily as the sea, his rhythm patient and mind-numbingly perfect. “It’s like heaven, being inside you, fucking you.”
Heat built below her belly button, deep muscles pulling tight. Turning her head, she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on that heat, to make it grow.
His voice seemed like it was a million miles away. “Talk to me. Tell me what you need.”
“Nothing. It’s perfect. It feels so good.”
His lips grazed along her neck, closing over her pulse point. “I see you,” he whispered. “I see you trying so hard. You don’t have to do this on your own. I’m here. Do you trust me?”
It only took a second for the answer to reveal itself. “Yes.”
“Let go, Kiss. Let me go faster. You’re close, I can feel it. But you need to let go, and you need it faster.”
Maybe he was right. She felt right on the edge, skating along the precipice of release but not able to fall. Something was missing. “Okay.”
“Take a breath. Take a breath and let go. Let me do this for you.”
When she nodded, his speed ramped up slowly, so gradually at first she barely noticed a difference. But then, there it was, that heat below her belly spreading out, intensifying as his hips moved faster and faster.
It was magic, what he was doing to her. Some arcane skill passed down from his ancestors, maybe a gift received straight from the hot springs itself. Maybe this was the magic at Mystic everyone kept talking about. Sweet, gorgeous men who knew how to fuck.
“It’s happening.” She grasped his neck, pulling, some sort of needy, desperate noise coming out of her.
Even though it seemed impossible, his hips pistoned even faster, his angle changing the smallest amount to put even more pressure on her front wall.
