Page 91 of The Biting Bargain

It doesn’t take long for me to unravel, for my mind to flash blank with desire as I topple over the edge, twitching and arching towards him, his name dripping from my lips. I’m still coming down from that high when he dives up, bending over me and stroking a strand of hair from my face.

"You’re out of this world, my dove," he says in a raspy voice.

I pull him down in another kiss, taste myself on his lips, and I cannot wait any longer. I nudge the tip of his cock towards my entrance and he makes a noise as he slides inside me, a noise so primal and vulnerable that my heart might burst.

I cry out from the stretch, that delicious pain I’ve missed so much, and still, my starved body needs more.

More of him. Not only more of his cock inside me, but more of him. Him!

"Please, fill me," I gasp as I take him in deep, until he bottoms out with a grunt.

Then, he freezes.

His eyes turn wide as he looks at me like he sees me for the very first time?

"What?" I whisper. "What is it?"

"I… I think I love you," he says.

My breath hitches. I blink.

"What did you say?"

"I love you." He furrows his brows. He sounds wondrous. A little confused. But at the same time as if he is only stating the obvious. And that vulnerable little gleam in his eyes is back. Then his face falls.

"I’m sorry, I don’t want to freak you out, I…"

"No!" I blurt out. "I love you, too."

Now it’s his turn to blink. And then his lips curl into a tiny smile.

"Really?"

I pull him closer. I kiss him. We start to move, our bodies just parts of the same dance. Rocking to the ancient rhythm that brought us together. And with every shove I want to shout it out loud. Yes. Really. I love you. A chant to bind us together. Until our movements gets fast and hard and messy and I cry out as I climax, so hard I think my mind might split in half and stop existing, and he growls my name into my shoulder, over and over, as he comes inside me until we’re both spent.

ChapterForty-Three

Vincent

Outside,behind the tinted windows, the sun is rising. At least that's what I assume, since I would combust into a cloud of ashes should I take so much as a peek.

We lounge on my sofa in my living room, wrapped in fluffy bathrobes. At some point it became too cold outside, so I carried Polly into the house — despite her resounding protests. But I don’t mind. Actually, I like carrying her in my arms like she’s a princess.

Now she's cuddled up in my arms, watching some black and white movie flickering on my giant TV and she’s nibbling some popcorn. Next to us is an empty pizza box, because of course I had to feed her properly after our make-up fuckfest.

I'm buzzing with a completely unknown, new sensation.

It feels a little like champagne bubbles in my blood. As if I've gone a teensy bit bonkers. And as if the world around me no longer felt tons heavy and gray.

Weeks ago, that thought would have made me go see a doctor.

Now I know it's all Polly's fault.

And that I'm a lucky bastard.

"So what now?" Polly asks, without looking away from the TV. On the screen, the lovers, he in a black suit, she in a white ball gown, begin to dance to some smooth orchestral music.

"What do you think?" I stroke her hair which feels like silk under my hand. The champagne bubbles bubble a little harder as she looks up at me. I’m not prepared. Once again, that weird protective instinct surges through me. And this other feeling that mixes with the champagne bubbles.

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