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This is a rock concert made flesh.
The way his cock moves with a punishing rhythm, the way his tongue chases mine, the way his roughness explodes again on my tongue and his hand mauls my breast is infinitely more than a lust-drunk romp.
It’s so good it’s devastating.
Right now, I couldn’t tell you which way is up.
The pleasure heightens, the steam oozes through my flesh, and I’m so close it hurts.
I rake my nails over his shoulders, loving how he tenses against me and snarls louder, pinching my nipple in response.
“Don’t stop,” I beg as I approach the edge, feeling his pace quicken. “Dexter, don’t you dare.”
“Shit!” Groaning, he bites my neck, sucking harshly at my flesh. “Do you know how fucking close I am?”
“Oh my God.” My nails hook into his shoulders.
“Come for me, sweetheart. Right fuckingnow.”
I couldn’t hold back if I tried.
I just hold on to him for dear life as feral heat explodes through me in lashing waves that take me into white-hot ecstasy and drop me back on my head, echoing straight to my fingertips.
And he’s there the whole time, still grinding his hips against mine, roaring as he empties inside me.
He holds me as I shudder against him and curses as my orgasm heralds his.
He grinds out a “fuck” that ends the universe where we could ever go back to being strangers.
We both detonate, finishing together in a tangle of limbs and mingled breath and so many new unknowns.
After this, I don’t know how I’ll ever fake another breath with this man.
16
THE SWEET SPOT (DEXTER)
Iwake up next to a sun angel.
She’s curled up with her head on my shoulder and her autumn-red hair splayed across the pillows like a tangle of fall leaves. The morning light makes her shimmer.
Her breath is cool against my skin.
She sleeps with one arm flung around my head and the other cradled by her chest.
Goddamn, what a sight.
What a vision.
I could stare at this woman for the next century and it wouldn’t be nearly long enough. My memories of last night are contradictions, vague and precise and brutally dick-hardening.
The sex, explicitly detailed.
If I wasn’t already waking up as hard as a rock, that would do it. But how we wound uphere, in my bed, it’s all a blur.
I’m sure I insisted on it after fucking her in the shower, the hallway, and again in the kitchen after pulling together a breakfast-for-dinner of bacon and eggs.
Last night, I was crawling out of my skin, pacing outside her bathroom like a deranged wolf until she was finished showering. Then her magnetic draw became too much to resist.
