Page 91 of One Secret

I made the woman I love orgasm so hard that she lost consciousness. You bet I'm proud as shi—

My slow and sleepy thoughts suddenly screech to a halt and then rush forward at lightspeed.

The woman I love...

The woman I... Shit.

I have no idea how I know it. Given my supreme lack of role models in this department, I should have no idea what romantic love looks like, let alone what it feels like. I have no idea how I'm supposed to quantify, categorize, or label this shit. But somehow, somewhere deep down, I know it to be true:

I love her. This phenomenal, brilliant, and sexy-as-shit badass of a woman... The realization feels, at once, completely impossible and a hundred percent inevitable.

Not to mention ultimately irrelevant.

"You're right to set your life on a different path if you're wanting something more real than this..."

I said it. I meant it.

Loving someone does not magically transform you into the person who can love them best or the one who can make them happiest. Darcy wants something real from her life. Something I can't give her. So my feelings are not pertinent.

In fact, I can privately indulge them for the next two days but, after that, they can shut up and go to hell.

'Cyrus?' Darcy is watching me, a look of concern on her face.

Ah, hell.

The warmth in her eyes has my heart practically glowing, for fucks sake. Sapped out of my head on the discovery that this woman is the one—and probably only—woman I'll ever love in my life, I fail at summoning my usual stoic bluster. My tone is all wrong and I'm sure my expression is for shit but the words, at least, fall into the appropriate vicinity of casual teasing.

'Sending a woman into that kind of rapture is a heady ego trip,' I agree with (I hope) a cocky-ass grin.

'Hmm...' Darcy muses, hands trailing back down my torso.

Dammit but everywhere she touches feels like it's blistering. In a good way. A sensitive, intoxicating burn that I can't get enough of.

'I'd like to see if that's a mutually satisfying experience,' Darcy admits, biting her lip.

She shifts her hips to reveal my burgeoning erection and I moan the instant she wraps her fingers around its base. Her touch is sure and firm. Applied and determined.

'Just how do you like being touched, Cyrus...?' she taunts, riding my shaft with her hands. Up and down, skin slides over the now steely core. No half-semi anymore, dammit. I'm hard as a goddamn baseball bat.

'Do you like it when I use my hands? Or do you prefer my mouth?'

'Shit...' I groan, my head falling back against the bed.

'Do you like how it feels inside me? Where feels better, Cyrus? Between my lips or between my legs?'

'Fuck...' I moan. Even with her weight over my pelvis, I thrust up against her hold. Sweat has beaded on my forehead and along my shoulders. 'Baby, if it's you, everything feels incredible. You can touch me however.'

'"However" isn't going to cut it...' she warns me before sucking on her thumb. I watch with bated breath as she presses that wet pad of her thumb to the very tip of my dick.

'Ah...!'

'I want specific instructions, Cyrus... You tell me what you want, what will send you higher, and I'll do it for you.' Shifting back down my legs and bending low, Darcy's lips are damn close to my shaft as she whispers. 'You tell me how, and I'll worship your body until you can't see straight.'

Check, I think, already fisting the sheets until I'm white-knuckling it. I'm already there, sweetheart.

'You tell me what you like,' Darcy whispers against my most sensitive skin. 'And I'll have your melting...'

Bingo, again.

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