Page 152 of Severed Rivalry
“I— I… Oh, God.” My words are incoherent as he builds my orgasm.
“Love you, Sariah.” He sits up with an ab crunch, his pubic bone taking the place of his thumb, providing pressure.
His hands pull me down as he stabs up into me, my movements short and deep, mirroring his.
“Are you close?” His words fan over my lips.
My hands to his shoulders, I nod.
His rest on my hips, keeping him fully seated, deep inside me. He surrounds me in every way possible. “Come for me, Angel.”
I do, not because of his command, but because I was already there.
His cock, his touch, his hands, his words. All pull me over the cliff. And I take him with me, my muscles pulling his orgasm deep inside the recesses of my soul.
I’m panting hard, my head resting on his shoulder, his knees holding me to him just as his arms are.
“Our life is beautiful,” he offers. “Imperfect and beautiful.”
I pull back to stare into his eyes. “Thank you for loving me. Thank you for choosing me.”
“That’s my line.”
Cian
The bed is empty when I wake again. It’s still dark and since it’s the height of summer, it’s early. But I don’t remember another nightmare. I really want her to see someone to work out all the things her brain is throwing at her.
Ayla knows someone. Why didn’t I think to ask her sooner?
Me: That therapist you saw that you loved… Can I get her contact info?
It takes a moment, but the replycomes.
Ayla: I *see*, not saw, and she’s amazing. You are not—it’s not even 4 a.m. Why in the world are you awake?
Me: You’re always up at this time.
Ayla: Fair, but not today.
Ayla: Joanie Jacaruso 303.555.1203 She won’t be up at this hour.
Ayla: I love her. This will be good for you.
I don’t correct her. But it does give me an idea.
I rise, throw on some sleep pants and a tee, and wander down the hall. I used to be able to walk around in my boxer briefs. Or naked for that matter. It seems that overnight that option was taken from me.
Complaining means I wouldn’t have Sariah and Renée and while I need the first, the latter is the reason I’m dressed.
Sariah rests on the back terrace, huddled under a blanket on one of the loungers.
I quickly brew up a pot of coffee, siphoning two off the top, and head out to be with her.
“For you.” I extend the cup.
She accepts with both hands as she sits forward just far enough that I can squeeze in behind her.
I pull her deep into my chest and murmur in her hair, “We have to figure out how you can sleep.”
