Page 85 of Cold as Stone
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, taking one nipple into his mouth.
I arch into him, still sensitive from my orgasm, every touch feeling like electricity. When I can form coherent thoughts again, I push at his shoulders, rolling us so I’m on top.
“My turn,” I say, straddling his hips.
His hands go to my waist, but I pin them to the bed. “No touching. Not yet.”
“Kya—”
“I told you I wanted to be wild tonight.” I roll my hips, feeling him hard against me but not taking him inside yet. “This is me being wild.”
I torture us both, sliding against him, getting him wet with my arousal but never quite taking him in. His hands clench in the sheets, his jaw tight with the effort of control.
“Kya, baby, please?—”
“Now who’s begging?”
“Me,” he says without hesitation. “I’m begging. Now fuck me or I’ll take over.”
I reach for the nightstand, grabbing protection and rolling it on him slowly, maintaining eye contact the whole time. Then, finally, I sink down onto him.
We both groan at the sensation. I’m still sensitive and swollen, and he feels bigger than usual, stretching me perfectly.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “You feel incredible.”
I start to move, finding a rhythm that has us both gasping. His hands are on my hips now, helping me ride him, and I don’t stop him this time. I need his touch, need his strength, need him.
“Look at you,” he says, voice rough with awe. “So fucking beautiful like this. Taking what you want.”
“You,” I gasp. “I want you.”
“You have me. All of me.”
The way he says it, the raw honesty in his voice, breaks me open. I slow my movements, leaning down to kiss him deeply.
“I love you,” I whisper against his lips.
He rolls us, never breaking our connection, until he’s above me. “I love you too, Kya.”
The wildness from before shifts into something deeper, more intense. We move together slowly now, savoring each touch, each kiss, each whispered word of love. When he slides his hand between us to touch me, I’m already so close.
“Together,” I plead. “I want to come together.”
“Yeah, baby. Together.”
We find our release at the same time, holding each other through the waves of pleasure.
After, he pulls me against his chest, and I can feel his heart racing under my palm, matching the rhythm of mine.
“Wild enough for you?” I ask, my voice rough.
He laughs, pressing a kiss to my hair. “Perfect. You’re perfect.”
“Even when I’m tipsy and demanding?”
“Especially then.” His arms tighten around me. “Though I have to ask—who the fuck is supply closet Derek?”
I giggle, the sound slightly hysterical from exhaustion and satisfaction. “Some guy Mercy tried to hook up with at the club.”
