With a growl that had its own kind of consequences, if you know what I mean, I threw a hand up. “I don’t know! You smell good! Okay. Is that what you were looking for? You smell like- You just smell good. I like it… I like it a lot.” Grumbling under my breath, wishing I wasn’t pinned to him by our joined junk, I huffed and puffed, “Happy now? Cretin.”
Cy purred in answer, his chest rumbling so loud he sounded like a fancy lawnmower.
With a glare up at him, I poked him in the chest.
He laughed, long and loud. That sound was absolutely joyous.
Cheeks flaming, nowhere to go, I pressed my face to his chest, hiding my expression from him. This just seemed to make the oaf laugh harder. Cuddling me to him, smoothing his hands up and down my back, he nuzzled the top of my head. “Cy smell’s like Pru’s,” he purr-rumbled softly.
“Shut up,” I mutter-mumbled into his chest, setting him off in another fit of happy laughs.
If I didn’t love the sound of that rusty choke laugh I might be offended.
Talking about feelings and emotions, wants and needs, was not exactly my strong suit. There were too many layers to this onion to even get into it.
The rumbling purr in his chest softened, until it was a low hum. Rubbing my back, he pressed his cheek over the top of my head, and rocked a little from side to side.
A small, startled laugh escaped me when I realized what song he was humming— the pop hit I’d been caterwauling along to in my car on my way home. It was a strange coincidence— a bit kismet, really.
This felt weird but nice. Weird nice.
The part of me that was enjoying this, maybe a little too much, fought with the other half of me warning me to run before he did and save myself from the heartache.
I was moving soon. Very soon, to who the hell knew where. I held little doubt he’d actually be willing to relocate with me. He said I was his but did he mean it? Did he really?
He still lived at home.
Add to that the fact that I’d just schtupped his brother… I mean, it didn’t really get more complicated than this.
“Your arms are probably getting tired.” My voice was muffled against all that hard muscle and soft chest fluff.
Cy snorted, cupped my ass to lift me up a little, an action that had us both gasping, then groaning, as if to show me he was not in fact fatigued in the least. “Arms not tired.”
Pulling back, I stared at him. He really did seem fine, no signs of fatigue. If anything, he had such a soft, relaxed expression, the picture of contentment, I’d say he was swimming in his happy. The snarky comment about my weight on my lips, because light I was not, died a short death.
“Pru tired?” he asked.
“No.”
“Goot.” Leaning in close, he stole a kiss, purring when I instantly kissed him back.
I’d swear his scent immediately thickened in the air. The tingling shivers in reaction were instant. He just had that effect on me.
Slipping my fingers into his hair, I grabbed handfuls, doing a little happy rumbling of my own when he growled his pleasure at my rough handling.
Slipping his arms under my legs, hooking his forearms on the bend of my legs, one and then the other, he walked us to the wall, pressing my back to it as I clung to him and sucked his tongue from his head, and proceeded to pound me into my next existence.
I couldn’t move like I wanted to, held open to him as he growlingly ground himself into me. We were still locked together tight, the fit offering little wiggle room so he was forced to shove into me harder, grind himself against me.
He was so deep he kept ramming that special spot, rubbing my clit with every pummeling thrust.
Panting and mumbling his name over and over as I frantically tried to move, kiss, and breathe— it was too much one moment, then not enough the next— I found myself screaming against his lips as I climbed that sweet precipice.
Cy tumbled right over along with me, throwing his head back and letting out a roar that shook the windows and set me off again.
Cy took my lips then in a searing kiss. I felt that one from my head to my still tingling toes.
When we finally came up for air, we broke apart smiling, panting.
