“I knew you would, but by that point, it’d be too late.”
He shifts to his side, digging one elbow into the mattress so he can caress my face. He wipes an errant tear that somehow escaped and kisses me. “I would have been gentle. Eased in. Taken it slower. Checked in with you.”
“You would have stopped,” I accuse.
He grins devilishly. “Don’t be so sure about that.” He glances down at the space between us and groans. “Fuck, look at that. I made you bleed.” His voice is tinted in awe. “All of this is mine now, isn’t it? I’m the only man to be inside you. You have no idea what that’s doing to me.” He kisses me and comes back over me. “Can I move? Are you ready for me to move?”
I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for him to move, but I nod all the same.
Slowly, he pulls mostly out only to roll his hips back in. It burns, but I think the worst is over.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” His eyes roll back and close, and hebites his lip, his body stilling as his fists clench. It’s so fucking hot I can hardly take it. The way he’s falling apart over simply pushing into me. Over tasting me. It’s undoing parts of me that can’t be undone. That must stay rigid and relentless and unyielding.
But when his forehead falls to mine, and our lips meet, and he slides out only to shove harshly back in, I know it’s too late. He’s breathing life into parts of me that never existed before tonight. Parts that were stifled and smothered and killed before they ever had a chance to live.
“Hell, Ella,” he hisses, his face still pinched up. “How?”
That’s all he asks. How. I don’t know what he’s asking, and yet I do. How can it feel this good? How can it only be tonight? How are we here together like this, and how can we make it last just a little longer?
“Are you okay? Does it hurt still?”
“No.”
That’s all I give him. It doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s starting to feel otherworldly good.
My hands find his firm-as-fuck ass, and I hold on, squeezing, urging him to start fucking me because if he doesn’t right now, I might die. That’s how amazing his cock inside of me feels. Full and deep and perfect. So incredible words can’t even begin to imagine this. I moan as he starts to pump, his hands planted into the bed on either side of my head, his fucks deep and penetrating. His hips undulate, rolling into me, massaging something inside of me that has me angling up, desperate for more.
My hips thrust up to meet his, my body taking over, going on instinct instead of practice or knowledge. I keep my eyes closed. He’s watching me. I know he is. But if I look at him right now with him inside of me like this…I can’t.
His arms wrap around my shoulders, pressing my tits to his chest, and he drops his mouth to my neck. My thighs shifthigher, going up to his hips, and feeling delicious friction on my clit as I do. Over and over, he takes me, ripping cries and moans and whimpers from my lips. From his lips. We’re sweaty and loud and fucking like we have eternity. On and on, he doesn’t stop. The bed bangs against the wall with a constantthump, thump, thump.
“Rowan…” I can’t go beyond that. I’m on the brink of something, and I don’t know what it is or how I’ll get there. I just know that I have to.
He seems to know what I’m asking for without me having to say anything else. He puts his thumb in my mouth, and I suck on it, getting it nice and wet before he pulls it free and uses it to rub my clit. That, combined with the way his cock pummels me, massaging every nerve ending in my pussy, catapults me right to the brink.
A shudder racks through me. My head falls back. My eyes pinch shut. My pussy does things I didn’t know it could do, growing swollen and tight, with an ache that’s so perfect I never want it to stop.
His hot breath pants against my ear. His sweat tickles my cheek. “Ella. Ella. Do you feel this?”
The pure pleasure and wonderment in his voice is what does me in, and I detonate, going to another plane of existence. My nails tear at his back, my teeth dig into his shoulder, and I come so hard I hardly know how to manage it.
“Fuck. God. Yes. That. You.”
He follows me over the edge with a roar, his back arching, and the muscles in his neck and jaw growing taut. I realize I’m watching him come. I never imagined something like that would be as hot or sexy as it is, but hell, if it’s not. He’s coming inside me. Into a condom, yes, but he’s having an orgasm inside of me, and I don’t know what it is about that, but it does something funny to my insides. It’s like I want him to do that again and again when I know perfectly well that can’t happen.
His body jerks and spasms two more times before he collapses on me, breathing raggedly even as he touches, kisses, and praises how good that was.
He pulls out of me, and I wince at the small burn that creates. The condom is removed and tied off before he tosses it into the trash and immediately puts on another. This time I fuck him from on top. It’s hard and hot and heavy. My tits bounce while my body takes him as deep as I can go. I come two more times on his cock. He makes sure of it.
And when he passes out, kissing my neck and snuggled against me as I lie flat on my back, I allow myself this moment. I pretend and daydream. It’s sweet and weird and ridiculous and not the least bit smart. But it’s just me. No one else will ever know of these thoughts. So I let them run wild, and when he falls asleep, looking so sated and peaceful, I kiss his lips, slip out of bed, and go.
I sneak back into the cold night, the hour late, as I camp out deep in the woods. It isn’t until I pull off my wig to get changed out of my gown that I realize one of my earrings fell out. And was likely left behind with my midnight prince.
4
ROWAN
Iwake to sunlight stabbing through a gap in the curtains, a precise beam of torture that finds my eyelids like it was aimed there on purpose. My head throbs in rhythm with my pulse, and my mouth feels like it was stuffed with cotton, my tongue like sandpaper. Fragments of last night swim through the murky waters of my memory. The diplomatic small talk. The women vying for my attention.
