Page 31 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I
Hercules nods as if my answer is sufficient. Here he comes, face-first. He curls his arms around my thighs, and I lie back. At first contact, I cry out. That intense sensation I felt in the car when he rubbed me soars through my mound. He intensifies his stimulation. Gasping like a fish out of water, I try to see what’s happening. What in the world is he doing to me?
“Ohh,” I whimper, breathless.
Though I’m twisting and turning, he holds my lower half firmly in place. There’s no fleeing. I can’t stop my burning sighs and convulsive gasps as those building blocks of pleasure return to my vag for a second time today. The sensation is too intense. Euphoria soars through me. I claw at the sheets, grab at his strong shoulders, run my fingers through his hair, and then…explosion!
“Ahh!” I scream.
My thighs quiver, and I see nothing but white. Now I know what they’re mimicking in movies. All of their moaning, sighing, fluttering eyebrows, and sucking air make sense.
“You’re so ready, baby,” he whispers.
He called me baby. Hercules Valentine referred to me as his baby.
My heart melts. When he slides up between my thighs, spreading them, not only am I still reeling from that fiery orgasm but I also feel like I’m completely his. And then it happens so fast. His cock climbs through me, and I’m being carefully filled by the boy I’ve loved from the moment I laid eyes on him. I hug him tight. My arms possess him. My breathing shudders, and my eyes are closed tightly as Hercules stretches me in places Boyles’s cock couldn’t reach.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I open my eyes. His gaze is lidded.Sexy.I nod.
He kisses me gently. I glide my tongue across his lower lip. That’s something I’ve been wanting to do since high school.
“Ooh,” I grunt as he thrusts in and out of me.
Gentle burning gives way to intensifying pleasure. Our tongues roll around each other. I rake his lower lip through my teeth before I pull his tongue deep into my mouth. When I come up for air, he does the same.
“You feel so damn good,” he whispers as his manhood plunges deeper into my wetness.
“Ah…” I feel that. “Again. Deeper.”
He does it again, and deep. I cry out. I want more. I want to feel him now and forever.
“Hercules, please.”
“Here I am, baby,” he says before answering my call.
We are in over our heads—the kissing, his probing thrusts. I caress every part of him, and it’s not enough. His fingers are gripping my ass, and as his cock and my womanhood collide, he’s nailing me against his erection. And still, he’s not inside me far enough. I want to feel him deep in my belly, in my sternum, my heart, my throat.
I’m in heaven listening to Hercules’s whimpers. I know this is just sex, but for the moment, I feel like I love him. Maybe I do. Maybe if he knew who I was, he would say that he loves me too.
I’ll say it. I’m going to tell him now.
“Ah!” He propels his length into me as far as it can go. “Ohh!” He roars as his body quakes until he stiffens.
Then, like air spurting out of a balloon, he grows limp. Hercules kisses my check and rolls over onto his back. I’ve never missed anything more than his heaviness on top of me. I want him back.
The warm air that settles in the bedroom presses against the sweat on my skin, and I’m chilly. “Hercules?” I say, ready to confess the truth.
I hear him snore and turn to see that he’s asleep.
Never in a millionyears did I think I would be this intimate with the boy of my dreams. Well… not boy. Hercules is a man. He’s always been more man than boy anyway. I can’t sleep. I know that it’ll be wise of me to call a cab and head back to campus. When he wakes up, I should be gone—but I can’t leave.
I’m staring at him up close. His perfect profile. His kissable lips. I press my nose against his chest and sniff. His aroma expands through my senses.
What if I kiss him? Will he wake up like the sleeping prince who’s just been kissed by his happily ever after? If I shake him, will he enter me again? I glance down. The condom is still on his penis, and it’s flopped against his thigh. His snoring gradually turns louder.
Lying on my side, I curl up in a ball to watch his sculpted chest rise and fall. He really is in good shape. I take my gaze up to his face and then to his skull. I've never been too impressed by a man's looks and physique. I'm more of a brain girl. I always thought that Hercules was smart. He used to pay close attention in class and wrote meticulous notes. When staring at his face wasn’t an option, I would watch his hand out of the corner of my eye. Even on the night of the party, he was sober and quick to figure out what was going on. I never took him for the type to get blackout drunk. Something must have gone really wrong from that night until now. I think about sticking around to discover the truth. I’m sure after he realizes he had sex with me, he’ll open up and tell me everything.
Will he change his mind about not making any promises if he knows who I am?
