“Yes, definitely. We should tell someone because—” Because what? Becausesomething, I was sure. But my thoughts kept slipping, floating away from me like startled moon jellies. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the scene before me, by the hormones pumping through my bloodstream, the pleasure pods hacking my hypothalamus, pushing my pleasure centers into overdrive.
“Are you okay?” Freddie asked, his chest pressing up against my back, his breath skimming over my neck.
“I don’t think so,” I said on a rushed exhale. And when he touched me again, his fingertips ghosting up my arms, my head lolled back to rest against his shoulder.
The tip of his nose slid along the curve of my neck, and I reached back, grasping his hip, scrabbling for purchase as the universe tilted, swirled, sanity dancing away from me, all but vanishing as he dropped his lips to my ear and whispered, “Phoebe.”
Spinning around in his arms, I wrapped my fingers around his tie and yanked his lips to mine. I thought the kiss would give me some relief from the deep, driving desire animating my arms and my fingers and my lips. But I couldn’t kiss him enough. Couldn’t be kissed enough. There was no enough.
He pulled away, that same unrelenting not-enoughness blazing in his eyes. In the space he’d put between us, I stared up at him, pleading, begging him for something. For anything. Maybe for everything. And then he offered it to me, pointing his chin over my shoulder, his chest heaving, his pupils blown. “I think there’s a utility closet?—”
“Gods, yes.” Pulling him by the tie still clutched between my fingers, I accessed the security lock for the closet in my VC, and we barreled through the door.
I grabbed at his coat, his shirt, his tie, tearing them off ina blur of soft fabric and expensive tailoring. When he pushed me up against a shelf, I laughed. Then I moaned when his teeth sank into my shoulder, the bite just shy of painful.
Dropping to his knees, he nosed under my blouse to kiss my belly while his deft fingers undid my button, unzipped my zipper, pulled my pants down over my hips. My panties joined the rest of our clothes in a heap in the corner.
I let him ease my legs apart, his hands gliding from my ankles to my calves as his lips skimmed along the ultra-sensitive skin of my inner thigh. When his mouth reached my swollen, pulsing, neurochemically aroused core, he only had to slide his tongue over me once, and I tumbled, gasping as waves of pleasure crashed over me again and again, refusing to let me come up for air.
“I’m sorry,” he said against my thigh. “I didn’t want it to be like this. I wanted to be patient. I wanted to wait until it was right. But,stars save me, I need?—”
Grabbing a fistful of his hair, I pulled on him until his eyes met mine. “If you’re not inside me in five seconds?—”
It only took him three.
Standing, unzipping his pants, stroking his rigid length while I hooked my thigh over his hip, he drove into me, and I drowned in mindless, scorching, neuro-hacked bliss. A sea of sensation surged and receded, ecstasy thrumming through every cell in my body in time with his hips. It was magnificent.Hewas magnificent. It was so much more, so much deeper, so much fuller and sweeter and thicker and harder than anything I’d ever experienced before. I never wanted it to end. And after my third orgasm and his second, in a brief moment of lucidity, I realized that it might never end. And that would be bad.Probably.
“Our guests,” I slurred, my head hanging over his shoulder, my brain struggling to function. “We need help.”
“Who?” He pulled back, his eyes heavy lidded, his lips wet and parted. “Who could help?”
Right. If anyone else came up here, they’d suffer this same fate. Well, maybe not this exact fate. This fate belonged to us, only us, until the end of time. Taking his face between my hands, I kissed him, brushing my tongue over his, feeling him swell again inside me. My legs trembled, and I clung to him as he pulled out, moved us to the floor, hauling me into his lap. Lowering myself onto him again, I ran my hands through his hair, each strand uniquely silky as it slid through my fingers. “Were we talking about something?”
“Help,” he said, drawing a single finger down the center of my spine. “We need to get help.”
“Elanie. She hasn’t upgraded yet. She’s immune. She was able to”—I groaned as he grasped my hips, sliding me up and down his shaft—“walk away.”
“Can you comm her?” he asked, slowing his pace, giving me a chance to try.
Even so, accessing my VC was like sifting through wet sand. I commed.
she snapped back.
I would have laughed at the phrasing if he hadn’t swiped his tongue up my throat.
I would have given her forever, longer than forever, to the point when time no longer existed and we were nothing but stardust. But our guests, they needed us.
It wasn’t quite like a switch flipping, the moment she deactivated the pods. It was softer, slower. It was the quiet calm after the storm, waves receding into the ocean. It was waking up from the most wonderful dream, wishing you could fall asleep again so it wouldn’t end.
Sitting in his lap with his hands cradling my ass and sweat dripping between my breasts, I wheezed, “Holy hells.”
With a breathy laugh, his shoulders shaking under my palms, he leaned back, looking me over. “Are you all right?” His eyes were glossy, his cheeks flushed, his hair sticking to his forehead in sweaty little strands.
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk tomorrow,” I said, smiling at his red cheeks and his messy hair and his dazed, sated expression. “But I’m fine.” That was a lie. In truth, I was so much better than fine that the word itself was a dull, gray speck in a technicolor universe.
Blinking away the last wild remnants of lust from his eyes, he asked, “How long have we been in here?”
