Neither of us took a breath. No chance to decline or stop or escape this.
My hands flew to the button of his jeans, and Stone fell forward, palm flat against the wall beside my head, caging me in, breathing heavily into my mouth.
I fumbled with his button and fly, shaking and desperate to feel him inside me. I missed him. I missed this. I missed us. The difficulty. The drunkenness. The desperation of it all.
Then his fully erected cock was heavy and pulsing in my hand.
When I wrapped my fingers around it, his palm slid down the wall, brows slanted upward, mouth falling open, euphoria carved into his face. By my touch, he was weak, and I loved how it stole him. How he didn’t hide it—couldn’t hide it. How the disguise slid off, and he’d become utterly helpless.
I make him feel like this, my heart sang.
Then I was swooped off the ground.
“I’ve been craving you, Adora, and I intend to kiss you everywhere.” Stone cleared off the desk by the opened window, my fountain pen flew, ink spilled, and the clock was bumped off and crashed to the hardwood. He dropped me on the edge and peeled off my jeans as if he were thirsty, aching, and dying.
Winter was slipping into the room, and I started to shiver.
He grabbed my ankles, spread my legs apart, and set my feet flat, my toes curling around the edge of the desk.
My heart was a wild, thrashing beast, and I was at his mercy with a cold draft blowing across my flesh. Then his warm hands came over my thighs, and he lowered, dragging a soft mouth and a greedy tongue up through my soaked slit—deeply, slowly. A fierce, spine-melting crawl that threw my head back.
“Stone,” I panted, my breath catching as he took my clit into his mouth.
He trailed soft lips and sucked on my trembling pink flesh and kissed the insides of my thighs. He then stood between my legs, holding my jaw, slipping his tongue into my mouth. And ...
I.
Was.
Set.
Aflame.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispered into my ear. His hips sank between my knees, a sultry safe place, the thick head of his cock nudging my entrance. Like our parts just suddenly found each other and demanded to be connected again.
Stone leaned over me, sliding his hands under my ass, grabbing me, and hauling my spread pussy flush against his warm cock. I sucked in a breath, the sensations insane, maddening, my nerve-endings skinned and exposed.
“This is going to kill me,” I cried in a whisper, my nails sinking into his skin. “I can’t keep doing this and wake up tomorrow and not think of you. I can’t keep doing this then go on without you.”
“Then don’t.” His thumbs slid down my pussy’s edges to my opening, and he kneaded, drawing heavy circles to get me ready as his cock slid over my clit. I knew what was to come, and I was suddenly sucking on his bottom lip, fisting his shirt, yanking him closer, and grinding into his hands as he worked my pussy until my body was spasming with a climbing orgasm.
“Take a breath, Adora,” Stone whispered knowingly into my mouth. He kept my thighs back with his hips as his cock slid through my slit, the bottom of it scraping my bud. His thumb teasingly dipped inside me and circled the rim, and I shook my head with my legs shaking.
I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to hold on forever.
As Stone grinned against my lips, he moved his hooked fingers only an inch inside me. He stroked my flesh, triggering the orgasm himself.
In one fierce breath, the orgasm hit me, seizing my entire being, paralyzing me, liquifying me into a quivering mess in his palm. One of his hands moved up to cradle the back of my head while the other flirted with my orgasm like a tuning fork. My back arched, feeling his lips trace my jawline, my throat, then he kissed my collarbone, where the skin was thin.
He removed his flirtatious fingers and dragged his cock across my warm center, using my climax to coat himself. All my blood had rushed between my legs. My body hadn’t come down, still locked in an orgasm, trapped in a cage of utter bliss as he prodded my opening.
I could feel his warm breath move across my skin to my lips. I grabbed his jaw and kissed him just as he lined himself up. Then his palm smoothed down the back of my thigh, and there he squeezed the flesh and thrust inside me.
Inch by stretched inch, he filled me to the base.
Stone cursed at the feel of us, and his lips slid lazily down my throat.
At any second, Alice or Cyrus could barge into the room and see a Heathen with his jeans halfway down his ass as he stood between my spread legs. In my imagination, it’s Cyrus, and he walks in, but we can’t hear him, lost in our fantasy world of utter pleasure. “Adora, what are you doing?” Cyrus asks, sounding from a world away, outside this five-foot radius of perfection Stone and I have created. “You are literally my other half. Why are you fucking a Heathen?” But I’m incredibly selfish and consumed by Stone. All I hear is the slamming of Stone’s heart. All I feel is the way we’re bound to each other, as we should always be. All I see are cosmic black eyes. All I smell is crisp winter air. And all I taste are his soft, swollen lips. “Adora! ... Adora! ... Adora!” Cyrus screams, butStone, Stone, Stone, my heart echoes. Besides, hearts should never have to apologize for feeling the same as the night should never have to apologize for breathing.
