I tense. The sensations are pleasurable, but I’m not ready for anal sex. Not today, and maybe not ever.
And I still haven’t seen that condom.
He grasps himself more aggressively now and jerks rapidly. His breathing turns ragged. Finally he shouts my name and I feel a waterfall of hot liquid all over my thighs.
I’m left on edge, trembling, my body close to its own peak.
Slayer reaches to the side table and brings a warm, rose-scented, moist towel to clean me. Then he finishes what he started.
Twisting alongside me, he uses his fingers and tongue to carry me into a toe-curling orgasm—one that roars up, slow and deliciously devastating, before it finally crashes through me like the perfect storm.
“That was incredible,” I whisper, dazed as he releases the scarves and swoops his strong, muscular arm around me. He snuggles me against his firm abs under the covers.
The afternoon sun warms us from its position outside the window. And for a brief, perfect moment, I close my eyes and dream.
CHAPTER 38
SLAYER
Bix is still curled up beside me on the bed, wrapped loose in a silk robe that’s barely hanging over one shoulder. Her lips are pink and flushed. Her skin glows.
For the first time in years, I feel light and carefree. Like something’s been loosened inside my chest that I didn’t even know was locked.
I turn to look at her fully, just to make sure she’s still here, still real.
She opens her eyes and smiles lazily. “That was unexpected.”
I huff a quiet laugh. “That’s what happens when you go snooping through my things.”
“Well, if you’re going to leave incense and vintage books lying around, a girl might become intrigued.”
I stretch out beside her. My body still aches—the good kind. Muscles loose. Cock soft. Heart...not so soft.
“I haven’t felt that free since—” I stop myself. It’s half a thought. One I don’t think I want to finish out loud.
“Since?” she asks.
“Since a long time ago.”
Her eyes soften. This woman, who earlier was tracing rope-linedfantasies and driving me insane with her tongue, now watches me like I’m a map she’s learning how to read.
“Did the scarf bother you?” I ask.
Her brow lifts. “No. The idea of being tied to a post... So strange to say it, but it thrilled me. Excited me."
Inside me, it’s like something unwinds.
She adds, “You took your time. Made it safe. Sexy. And I didn’t expect that. But I liked it.”
And that’s the moment. Right there. It hits harder than the orgasm.
Because that’s not just permission. That’s trust.
For the first time in a long damn time, someone sees me—not the leather, not the legend. Just me. I lean over and kiss her shoulder. “You’re kind of blowing all my circuits.”
“Excellent. That’s what I’m going for.”
I grin. For a minute we lie there in the quiet, the air warm with incense and the hum of the ceiling fan. Bix runs her fingers over my arms and picks up the pendant resting against my chest.
