Page 104 of Severed Rivalry
“Then don’t,” I whisper back.
“I love you, Sariah Ocotea.”
“And I love you.”
He dips his mouth to mine and seals our evening with a searing kiss, his dick twitching and hardening inside me.
“You’re leaking out of me.”
“Call it lubrication.” He thrust his hips up in a quick jab, his pelvis rocking against my clit.
“Oh fuck.”
“Exactly.”
We go again. There’s nothing sweet or languid in this round. This one is straight carnal pleasure.
He bounces me on his dick, spearing me in a quick brutal succession.
I don’t think I can find my third. Multiples have always eluded me. Just when I think this round is for him and I’ll be okay without a release, he licks his thumb and rubs it against my ass.
“Oh fuck,” I say again.
“Come on, Angel, ride me. Fuck my cock.” He rocks as I bounce, meeting me thrust for thrust and when his thumb breaches my hole, pressing against his length through the wall, I release a moan that he quickly swallows down.
I ride as much as I can, overwhelmed with sensation, and finally reach to stroke my own clit, wanting so badly to bring him with me again.
And that’s it. A hard rub on the painful, swollen bud, and I explode.
He swallows my moan on a laugh and that drags out the slow ocean of sensation. His cock, his thumb, my fingers, the vibration of it all deep inside me. I fall into weightlessness, into a night of exploding stars and shooting comets. I fall into his perfection. And I let go.
I’m aware when the warm washcloth rubs between my legs. I flinch when it hits my oversensitive clit. I can barely lift my leg to help. Hell, maybe I don’t.
Rode hard and put up wet.
Maybe I think it. Maybe I say it, but I’m asleep before I can figure out which.
30
hellhounds too
Cian
Sariah snores. Not freight train snores, but she has a rhythm to her breathing.
She was mumbling when I cleaned her up and by the time I got back to bed, she was out.
And not a little out, like she mumbled or rolled toward me when I slid under the covers. Like dead to the world. The house could shake, and she’d never know. Out.
I roll her into my chest, not content to not be touching her. On my back, one hand behind my head, my feet tangling in my old sleep pants, and the happiest I’ve been in as long as I can remember.
All hell has broken loose—the demons are everywhere, the hellhounds too—and I don’t give a single fuck.
She’s in my arms.
I’m in her heart.
We love each other and, whatever fight comes our way, we’re in it together.
