Wrapping around him, I flip us so that I’m on top, breathless and sweaty from the best orgasm of my life, but nowhere near done with this, with us.
With more.
“Oh!” Fin cries, gripping my hips as I ride him, tugging my shirt over my head and tossing it to the side of the bed where I’d thrown his hat.
His hands travel up my sides, cupping my breasts as mine find his chest, pressing down for leverage.
My hips move fluidly back and forth, and I rock him in and out of me until my next climax is right around the corner.
Pushing up off the bed onto one elbow, Fin’s other hand cups around the back of my neck, pulling me close, his lips finding mine in a flurried kiss that has me clamping my core around him.
He snarls into my kiss at the feel, and I grin, doing it repeatedly until he’s lifting off the bed and slamming inside me in a hurried fever.
“How do we ever stop?” Fin breathes.
My mouth is agape, unable to form words as my next movements have me coming apart at the seams. “Oh god. Oh god!” I moan, shuddering on Fin as I come.
“Eleanor!” He follows me, his jerky movements beneath me causing me to wiggle.
I kiss him, trying to convey how much this meant to me. How much I enjoyed myself. How muchmorethis means.
His tongue steals my sense as it twirls against mine.
He flips us over, and he’s moving inside me as he pulls his lips away. “If you keep getting more complex, I’ll never be able to hat you.”
“What?!” I laugh, but forget all about his words when he lifts one of my legs over his shoulder and finds the perfect spot to steal my words with.
“Don’t stop,” I breathe, and we’re a sweaty mess of sex all over again.
It has me wondering if his worry should be my own. How will we ever stop?
Hours later,we’re finally lying across the bed, the sheets and blankets askew as the cool breeze drifts over us from the windows, Fin magicked open on the fourth or fifth round.
My body is sore, and I’m so tired I can barely open my eyes.
His fingers dust over my back, lulling me closer to sleep.
“I think I should tell you something.” His words have my heart rate picking up, my eyes flying wide. There was a way his tone warbled that had my stomach knotting.
“What?”
“I wasn’t honest with you before when I said that Wonderland wouldn’t let you in if you didn’t belong.”
I swallow, pulling my body off his with great effort as I look at him, anxiety pulsing in my chest. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Wonderland will let you in if you’ve been marked for entry.”
“Marked?”
He worries his lower lip with his teeth, and my nerves fray, wondering what great nightmare his admission is going to bring.
“Someone from Wonderland has to mark you magically, and then the portals will open for you in times of need. In times of distress.”
Like when I was in the woods, crying and cold…
“Who would have marked me, though? I don’t know anyone who…”
His face twists with guilt, and I sit up, finding the sheet and tugging it over my body.