Desire was persuasive as fuck. Devin had fully intended to end things here. Miranda haloed in blissful canary yellow and sprawled out on his bed where the scent of sweat and arousal nearly overpowered the traces of lilacs. But something snapped.
And he was not entirely himself when he maneuvered on the bed, kissing up the slope of her shoulder until he reached her neck. Gods, her neck. She must have used some sort of perfume there because that delicious floral scent was stronger.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, and he didn’t know if he’d ever seen anything as beautiful as her warm, tawny skin basking in the glow of release, and the long, blonde waves of her hair cascading over his sheets.
She turned so that she was on her back, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. Perhaps he should stop here.
She bit her lip. “Are you going to fuck me now?”
And in the realm of possibilities, Miranda asking if he planned to fuck her while sprawled out on his bed after riding his face to orgasm should not have been anywhere close to possible.
He closed his eyes and spoke very, very carefully. “Not if you wish to stop.”
Her fingers tapped at his cheek and he tentatively opened his eyes. “But you want to?” It was a challenge, a tease. She was goading him. Taunting him. Tormenting him.
“You have no idea,” he replied with barely restrained control. “But what I want is irrelevant…”
Her head tilted, eyes narrowed. “Can’t you read what I want in my aura?”
He breathed through his nose, becauseyeshe could intuit what she wanted from her aura, he had been reading the very clear take-me amaranth for the better part of this conversation and it was driving him absolutelyinsane, but it wasn’t enough. Those were emotions, unfiltered and fickle.
“I can.”
“And what do you see?” she purred.
She was toying with him. His eyes were pure intent as he leaned down, pressing her into the bed. “I still need to hear you say it,” he said.
“I thought I did.”
His smile was dark, menacing. A burst of fuck yes ruby indicating she liked it.
He said, “No. You asked if I planned to fuck you. I need to hear you say you want me to.”
Her breathing grew heavy, her breasts crushed beneath his chest. Now who was doing the tormenting?
In a move he had no time to block, no presence of mind to counter, she had pinned him beneath her once again.
“Fine,” she said, angling her hips so that when she rocked, her still very wet center glided up the length of him, “I want you,” another jerk of her hips, “Devin,” he was choking, dying, “to fuck me,” she ended as she eased the barest inch of his cock into her and then he truly was gone.
Saying the words had worked some kind of magic. At first, as she lay on Devin’s bed, body still humming with a sweet sense of contentment, she thought it wouldn’t be easy to find that place again.
She had been very wrong.
Her crude, sensual declaration had not just worked for him. She had felt each wicked word with such heightened intensity that she was already reaching for a second release.
She had moved carefully, easing herself into the unfamiliar. Each time she rolled her hips she felt him press that much further into her. And it should have been so many things, but what it felt like wasrightand then the same rhythm she had chased before wasn’t even close to enough.
Back arching until there wasn’t a whisper of space between them, Miranda rolled her hips faster. Harder. The pace wasn’t even or controlled, but the sensations rippling through her took a breakneck pace and she had no idea how long she had been moving—it could have been minutes or hours—but she was coming down again, riding out the blissful friction until she couldn’t move anymore.
And with some uttered word she couldn’t hear, Devin squeezed her to him. Buried his face in her skin as she felt him shudder. She ran her fingers through his hair, hoping he’d felt as good as she had.
Miranda caught her breath, still wrapped in hazy satisfaction as they fell onto the bed fully, together. Maybe there was more to say, but Miranda couldn’t keep her eyes open a second longer. In no time she had given in to the sweet pull of sleep.
Devin woke sometime after dawn. He knew because the sun was peeking through the curtains and giving him a piercing headache. The last thing he wanted in the world was to leave Miranda, who still slept soundly beside him, but that sliver of light had to go.
Waking up with a woman was not something he’d ever done intentionally before and, usually, came with a panicked hunt for his clothes and a quick retreat out a window. But as he drew a finger along her shoulder, the only word to describe how he felt was: happy.
Desperately in need of a bath, Devin called for Haversham and had one prepared. He planned to be quick so there would be time to set up clean water for Miranda. He also ordered food. Lots of food.
