“Christian,” I cry, my back bowing off the mattress again, my legs closing tight around his body. “Fuck,Christian!”
“Come, baby,” he growls. “Fuck, you get so much tighter when you come.”
I’m gasping for air and my body snaps. His hand comes back around my throat and squeezes, and the lack of oxygen makes my body shake even harder. A bunch of expletives are spitting out in my mind, but my mouth is stuck open with no oxygen moving in or out, and I’m okay with it.
Let me die like this.
I’m coming back down from the high, my back reconnecting with my mattress, and his hand loosens. “That’s mygood girl,” Christian groans and pulls me up by my throat to kiss me.
Shit, we are so good at this. We always have been.
I’ve never been a fan of walking, he can carry me everywhere tomorrow if need be. I chuckle when the thought crosses my mind and he pulls back, his brows furrowed as he looks down at me.
“I was thinking,” I moan, and he moves slowly to listen, “about not walking tomorrow.”
He smirks with a breathy laugh. “Not a fan?”
“Never been,” I giggle.
“Me neither,” he smiles.
We kiss the laughter off each other's lips and his hips slam against mine, again and again, hitting the spot that is so close to pushing me off the diving board. Then it does and Christian is cursing in my ear, kissing my neck.
“Now you,” I breathe, and he presses into me deeply, harder, and my nails burrow into the skin of his back.
Christian moans deeply and huskily in my ear—the sound I’ve played in my mind on so many lonely nights—and his body jerks. I feel his muscles tremble beneath my fingers, my legs still shaking around him and his thighs trembling against the backs of mine.
“Lana,” he breathes and he makes my name sound like a sonnet.
And then it’s over, and it’s okay because we’ve reached the part of sex where we’re still just us—tired, spent, sweaty, and vulnerable. The part where we’ve already seen what there is to see and it’s okay because you know who you’re with, and you still love them. I can feel his thudding heart with his chest pressed into mine, and this might be my favorite part.
It feels like listening to a powerful orchestra and this part isthe part where it calms into a beautiful ending that ties the piece together—that brings you peaceful closure after a song like that.
Or maybe it’s the whole song, I don’t know.
“You okay?” Christian whispers in my ear.
I nod. “You?”
Christian pushes up onto his forearms and nudges his nose with mine. “I haven’t been this good in years.”
“You’re just saying that because you got laid.”
“No, because I’m with you now.”
I kiss him and whisper, “No more guest room.”
“Okay.”
“You sleep with me and you hold me to sleep every night.”
“Okay,” he whispers and kisses me.
“And you owe me a conversation about what you told me earlier,” I tell him.
“I know, baby,” Christian whispers, putting his forehead to mine. “I’ll tell you everything in the morning.”
“I love you.”
