They’re tight and furious as they jiggle my flesh and flex it. He even delivers a tight slap to it, sharp and stinging, as he moves me like I’m his puppet, his fuck doll.
His fuck doll drowning in vintage leather.
As soon as I think that, I’m there.
He’s taken me there. He’s given me my first orgasm with him.
My sun. My Arrow.
The moan I let out is so, so loud and thick that Arrow takes a bite out of that too. He presses our mouths together hard andfast and eats it up. I even feel him gulp it down, his Adam’s apple jerking with the swallow.
But I can’t be sure because I’m breaking into a million pieces, twisting and writhing in his arms, all restless and sweaty and slippery, and he’s still kissing me.
Although his kisses are softer now. They are sleepy and lazy and misty.
Drowsy.
Just like I am, and I would’ve lost my balance and fallen to the ground at his feet if he wasn’t holding me.
If he wasn’t clutching me tight to his heaving chest while winding my thighs around his hips again, making me hold on to him like a spider monkey.
I burrow my nose in his sweet smelling, sun-struck hair. “Thank you.”
He rubs his chin on the top of my head, remaining silent.
“For breaking your rule for me,” I continue.
He hums. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”
I kiss his shoulder. “So I’m your rebound girl now?”
He flexes his grip and almost smashes me to his chest and I love that.
I love him.
“No.” Before I can protest, he continues, “I’m not going to use you to get over your sister. Even I’m not that much of an asshole. Besides, you don’t have what I’m looking for in a rebound girl anyway.”
Chapter Fifteen
The Broken Arrow
“You’ve disappointed me. I thought I raised you better than that.”
My mother’s voice stops me at the front door of my house.
I was about to leave after carrying a sleepy Salem inside and up to her room. Hersunshineyellow-painted room.
Which I noticed while I was depositing her on her bed.
“Is there a reason why everything is yellow in your room?” I asked, looking around her tiny space for the first time ever.
“Sunshine yellow,” she corrected me sleepily. “It’s my favorite color. Reminds me of the sun.”
I draped her blanket over her. “You’re a little too obsessed with the sun, you know that?”
She curled herself into a ball, still wearing my jacket that basically covers her from top to bottom. “I know. I love my sun.”
But now I freeze at the door, my hand on the knob ready to turn it, wondering if my mother saw something.
