A long whine leaves my throat as I brace a hand on his chest, tears slipping through my clenched eyes.The palm of my other hand presses lightly over my stomach; jolts of pleasure and nausea shoot through me as I gasp.
He’s everywhere.
“Oh, wow. So full. Okay. Just,” I take several deep breaths, doing my best to keep from falling forward in a heap of bones. “Let me adjust to this.”
“It’s okay, baby,” Rowan coos, thumbs rubbing soft circles on my hips. “Take your time. You’re so tight that just sitting on it feels good for me.”
At that, my eyes shoot open. “What?”
“Well,” Rowan starts, swallowing nervously in response to my sudden reaction. “You’re squeezing me so tight. So even if you’re not moving, I’m still happy. I mean it as a—”
“Jesus, Rowan,” I interrupt, throat tightening at the pleasure received from his words, my head falling back. Without a thought, my hips begin to roll. “Your mouth is so fuckingfilthy.”
A small, pained noise leaves Rowan’s throat, and his hands tighten where they grip me.
“Fuck, Eli. That’s good too,” he praises.
I return my gaze to his flushed face, his eyes narrowed in concentration on where our bodies are connected.
“Does everything I do just feel that good?” I ask, lifting myself halfway up his length, then dropping back down.
We both groan in unison.
“Yes. Yes, angel. Everything—everythingyou do feels so fucking good I could die.”
“Ahhh,” I cry, removing my hand from his chest to grip the hair on the side of his head.
He’s so fucking sweet, so charming that it makes me feral. It makes me vicious. And he smellsso good.
“Yeah, just like that,” he pants, wide eyes still watching where I swallow his cock over and over again. “Oh, fuck, you’re perfect. So damn perfect.”
“Please.” I’m begging again. I just can’t help it. “This feels… it’s too…”
I don’t know what I’m trying to say, what I’m trying to convey. I just know that I’m crying, and his eyes have started to water, and I’m so fucking overwhelmed by whatever is sitting so heavily in my chest right now.
“I know,” Rowan coos again. “I know. I’ve got you, come here.” I fall forward onto his chest, feeling those strong arms wrap up my back, and his palms lock over my shoulders.
Then he’s fucking up into me at a rough, fast pace, and I’m sobbing into the side of his neck. I can taste his tears where they begin to fall and slide down from his cheeks.
With each grunt and each pant he releases into the air around us, I’m brought closer and closer to the edge.
“Oh god, Rowan. Oh, god,” I moan into his skin, fingers curling into his hair with far too much force.
“Fuck. You’re close—I can feel it.”
I’m not sure how he can feel it, but he’s not wrong. This pleasure is coiled tight and heavy in my stomach, a twin to the pain in my chest, and I feel as if I’m about to explode.
“So sweet,” I whine, delirious with pleasure. “You smell so good, my flower.”
Rowan groans loud and long, and as I feel his heat flood my insides—his release filling the condom—and his hand wraps around my dick where it’s trapped between us, I come with him.
“Angel, angel, angel,” he’s chanting, thrusting frantically. “Mine.”
My brain is nothing but mush as I twitch around him, the warmth of my come spreading between us, heightening the sensation of my orgasm with every passing second.
And as he slows to a stop, and I’ve finally stopped coming, once again all I can hear in the back of my mind is, “Do you remember me now?”
I stay curled up on top of him, and Rowan makes no move to unwrap his arms from around me.
