My spine bows in offering—a singular thought looping through my mind. It can’t possibly get better than this. It almost feels too good to be true.
At any moment now, I’m expecting my lizard brain to surface, reminding me of my discomfort with physical touch. But he disproves that theory when he slips his hand beneath the band of my leggings and into my underwear.
His palm drifts between my thighs, and the first whisper of contact short-circuits my nervous system.
“So fucking wet for me,” he rasps.
He slides through my arousal, teasing me with a torturous pace as his thumb circles my clit. My thoughts blur at the edges as I roll my hips unconsciously, chasing the high blooming inside me.
“More?” The rough timbre of his voice scrapes over me, unraveling my self-control.
I sink my teeth into my lip, murmuring a string of nonsense. “Yes, please…thank you.”
A quiet laugh rumbles through his chest. “Okay, little shark. I’ll give you more.”
I’m embarrassingly needy, but I don’t care. After so much build up, I’m desperate for relief.
When he slowly sinks two fingers inside me, stretching me apart, I clench around him. That feeling of pressure is new to me, and it sends me spiraling when the friction of his thumb increases, exactly where I need it.
The combination makes me squirm, so much sensory overload, I’m going to burst. I feel him everywhere. The solid press of his body. His breath coasting over my skin. His scent wrapping around me.
Those details imprint on me as he whips me into a frenzy, his tongue lashing at my nipple as he works me over with his fingers. The overwhelm of the day collides with the tension in my body, awakening every nerve.
I’m strung so tight my muscles burn as I struggle to breathe. It’s too much and still not enough.
Then, all at once, it explodes, a cascade of pleasure rolling down my spine and rippling through me. The release pulls a broken sound from my lungs as endless spasms rack my body.
Eros draws it out, wringing everything from me until the last aftershock has passed. When I have nothing left to give, he releases my nipple and withdraws his fingers, leaving me boneless as I melt into the bed.
I feel like I’m floating on a cloud as I laze in the afterglow, wondering how it’s possible to experience so much bliss. If this is what it’s like for everyone, I don’t know how they ever get anything else done. But somehow, I suspect that this kind of chemistry is the exception, rather than the rule.
Eros shifts above me, pulling his hand free from my leggings. As I’m considering what the protocol is for the mess I left on him, I hear the unmistakable sound of him sucking his fingers into his mouth.
Another low groan rolls through him, and I feel it between my legs.
“Did you just?—”
“Yes, Gabriela.” A thread of possession darkens his voice. “And if I trusted myself not to lose control, I’d bury my face between your thighs right now and make you come again.”
A flush of heat spreads over me, my body clenching in response. I don’t see a problem with that idea, but apparently, he’s still planning to take it slow.
He pulls my tank top back down and frees my hand from beneath his hoodie, pressing a kiss to the beating pulse in my wrist. When he releases me, there’s a rustle of clothing, and I think he’s putting his mask back on.
A moment later, he leans over to grab the remote, lifting the drapes back up. A feeling of uncertainty settles in my chest, and I verbalize the thought before I can stop myself.
“You aren’t leaving, are you?”
“No.”
A shaky exhalation pulls from my lungs, and I’m slightly embarrassed at how much I needed to hear that.
Just for tonight, I tell myself.
I don’t want to be alone.
“Are you sore?” His fingers feather over my jaw.
It takes a beat to register that he’s asking about what happened earlier tonight. I shift slightly, noting that I am a little achy, but I probably won’t feel the full extent of it until tomorrow.
