I had known, theoretically, what sex was.
But now—here?
It felt like a divine malfunction.
A glitch with meaning.
“Like I need you. Terribly.”
35 /SIRENA
“Good,”I breathed, leaning over him. “Can—can you—” I started, then stuttered, as his hips chased mine.
“What?” he asked, pulling me into his chest, before kissing me and smiling, driving into me with more confidence. “Sirena—I like this.”
I braced myself a little, leaning back into him. “I can tell,” I said with a small, brittle laugh.
I’d...accidentallypushedsomeone into going out with me once. Nothing happened—it was just a coffee date, but when I’d realized I’d let my feelings get the better of me and taken advantage of someone else, even if it was just for a latte, I’d been horrified.
And I’d been scared of ever letting my walls down ever since.
But Nex really did want to be with me, and I hadn’t influenced him—he’d done all of his crazy shit himself.
“You feel so good, Sirena,” he said, throwing his head back and working himself faster—and I knew what was going to happen next—everything like it always did, some guy lost in the moment, and me, far-too-fucking in possession of my own mind—except—that then his hands found my ass and pulled me down against him.
I yipped in surprise as my knees splayed out. “Nex!”
“What?” he asked, as his hands arced around the tops of my thighs. “This is what you like, isn’t it?” he said, thrusting his own hips up so that he wasn’t just moving inside me, but my clit was dragging across him as well.
I quickly nodded. “Okay, then,” he said, and I relaxed, letting him be in possession of me. I moaned, without thinking, and then tried to close my eyes to hide. “No—keep your eyes open. Let me see.”
“Why?” I whispered.
“So I can read them,” he said, his gaze tracing mine. “Your pupils dilate point-three millimeters every time I move just so.” He shifted his hips minutely—just enough to drag friction where it mattered most, pushing me back as he pushed his way in. I gasped, and he said, “See?”
I nodded subtly, as his hips rolled up again—more controlled this time. Testing. Marking my reactions.
“There,” he murmured. “You just clenched at a 17.8 percent increase in pressure.”
He didn’t stop. He adjusted—slightly—and kept going.
“You inhale through your nose when I hit this angle. Exhale through your mouth when I tilt. And you like this the most,” he said, rocking me against him, making me rub. “But this,” he said, pushing up deep, “is where you want me when you’re serious. You’re a system of exquisite triggers. Every one of them...responsive.”
I laughed through a gasp. “I’m going to pretend that was poetry.”
“Good—because I will write sonnets with your patterns.”
I felt myself flush—and that wasn’t me, normally I kept everything lashed down inside—but it was hard not to, under the concentrated lens of his attention. He pulled me up and then thrust deeply inside me again.
“You like that,” he said, but then he gently pushed me up.
I rose awkwardly, kneeling over him again.
“But you do like me more here,” he said, now wrapping his hand in further, so it was his thumb stroking my clit. “Yes, you do,” he murmured to himself, his gaze still drifting, collecting all the data I could give him.
“It’s not the sameeverytime,” I protested lightly, still trying to hang on to some pride.
“Good,” he said, his eyes meeting mine steadily for once. “I enjoy solving problems.”
