“Fuck,” I panted into his mouth. “Fuck, yes.”
Simon made a happy noise and didn’t miss a beat giving me everything I could’ve wanted, driving deep into me, hittingjustthe right spot on every thrust, dragging the head of his cock over it, back and forth, relentless. I hiccupped, clinging to him like my life depended on it, grinding my cock against his stomach, slick with precome and aching with need.
I was so close ithurt, and as much as I wanted this to last forever, I couldn’t hold out much longer.
“Close,” I mumbled, nearly biting my own tongue. Simon curled a hand around my hip, slowed his thrusts in favor of making them deeper,harder, every one of them setting off a new burst of fireworks behind eyelids I hadn’t meant to shut.
I sobbed as my orgasm hit, burying my face in his neck and digging my fingers into his shoulders. Someone was sayingoh God, oh fuck, oh fuck, yes, yes, and it took me a second, again, to realize that was me, whimpering it into Simon’s skin as my hips jerked wildly and I came all over his belly, hot and sticky and such a relief I thought I might pass out from it.
Simon made a strangled sound as he came, a hot rush inside me that set off another wave of pleasure and left me shuddering as the ripples of it coursed through me.
Fuck.Fuck.
Oh, I was ruined for every other person on the face of the Earth. Completely, permanently. It’d never feel as good as this with anyone else.
Simon rocked us both through our orgasms, taking me right to the edge of oversensitive and then pulling out as he softened.
He stayed where he was, bent over me, for a handful of breaths before rolling off and collapsing beside me hard enough to make me bounce on the mattress.
The only sound in the room was the two of us panting for breath and the soft creak of the mattress as we both shifted, sinking deeper into it.
Holy shit. Wow. Okay.
Well. Sex could be like that. Who knew?
“How was, uh…?” Simon asked after a pause, voice wrecked.
The sound of it was enough to make me want to crawl back on top of him and insist on round two. My body, on the other hand, was up to moving two fingers, tapping them against the sheets.
I laughed instead of saying anything, too overwhelmed for words. It was probably ironic that I was never good with words when it mattered most. Was that irony? I’d decide when there was more blood in my brain.
Anyway. It’d never mattered with Simon. He’d always known what I wasn’t saying.
“Ouch,” he said, but there was laughter in his voice, too. “That bad?”
I snorted. With supreme force of will, I slapped the back of his hand where it was lying between us with my own.
“Thatgood,” Simon corrected, voice warm and happy and pleased with himself. The urge to roll over and kiss him and demand another round rose up again.
I managed to slip my fingers between his, squeezing lightly.
“Lemme catch my breath a minute,” he said, which was impressive given how hard he was still panting. “Then I’ll clean us up.”
17
SIMON
The morning sunlightpeeking through the gap in the curtains fell across my face in a warm strip as I woke. I hummed, stretching out, flexing toes and fingers. The bruises from yesterday ached, a dull, heavy feeling that made me reluctant to rise.
When I rolled over, it was to see a pair of familiar, impossibly blue eyes staring into mine. I couldn’t have helped the smile that tugged at my lips if I’d wanted to.
“G’morning,” I mumbled, something warm swelling under my ribs as Theo smiled back.
God, he was gorgeous. Not that he wasn’t always gorgeous—Theo was beautiful the way actors and models were beautiful—but there was always something about him in the mornings. A softness that made my fingers itch to reach out and stroke through his hair.
“Good morning,” he rumbled, voice thick and frayed with sleep at the edges.
“Sleep okay?”
