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Clearly, more time was needed for certain intimacies. But if I worked on her long enough, she wouldn't hold back. It was inevitable. Left to our own devices, we would give each other everything, because that was the order of the universe.
I truly believed that.
I brushed off the sting and accommodated her. I was too far gone to split hairs, my mind in a dark and primitive place that didn't particularly care about anything except getting balls deep inside of her and rutting like an animal.
She showed me just what she wanted by moving to a large chaise lounge that dominated the corner of the room closest to the shoe closet I hadn't yet shown her. She climbed onto the cream-colored piece of furniture, getting on hands and knees, positioned right on the edge.
I didn't need to be told twice. I was covering her back, arms reaching around to palm her breasts, my tip butting up against her entrance between one thumping heartbeat and the next.
I shut my eyes with that first drugging thrust. She was wet, pliant, so I didn't hold back, jamming in to the hilt without preamble. The noise that escaped me right as her wet heat covered the base of my shaft was more animal than human. I was not a thinking being in that moment.
I was mindless. Her slave.
I watched us in the mirrors, watched myself going in and out of her, watched my cock squeezing in and dragging out slowly, then faster, frenzied. As soon as she began to get loud, close to her release, I slowed the rhythm again.
She was braced on all fours, her back arched, but her head was turned with mine, watching our bodies, never meeting my eyes no matter how long I stared at hers, trying to catch her gaze.
Again, it stung, but it was a battle for another day.
I watched her face while my body pumped into hers, watched her watching where we joined, and that did it. I'd wanted to last longer, wanted to savor more, but it was hopeless. I should have been amazed with myself for lasting as long as I had. The first touch of her nose nuzzling my shaft back in the living room had nearly had me coming in my pants.
I kissed her nape while I emptied inside of her, savoring with complete pleasure that moment of total abandon where I lost myself in her, my mind blown to bits.
I was still coming, spurting after-effects deep in her womb, when I lifted my head to watch her slack-jawed release, caught the way her eyes glazed over as the skin-tingling rush of her orgasm overtook her.
It was breathtaking. A heaven worth going through hell for. I'd never thought otherwise.
And the best part of all. I got to have her again. And again.
And I did. I was greedy with it. Insatiable. Voracious.
She brought me to life. I had her as many times as I could before she cried uncle.
There was never an end to this need she created inside of me. This endless chasm of want in my blood for her. Never had been. Never would be.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
"I wanted the whole world or nothing."
~Charles Bukowski
PAST
SCARLETT
Gram was not happy about my decision to get a job.
Dante less so. He was irate, predictably belligerent about it. He threw such a fit initially that Gram ordered him to go for a run.
When we were alone, she tried several different tactics to get me to change my mind. She was a formidable woman, not used to hearing no. And when she did hear the word, she didn't even consider accepting it. It was nothing but a challenge to her.
It was the closest we'd come to really butting heads. That alone almost made me cave.
"Darling," she said with her most charming smile. "We only just got you here. I was looking forward to your company."
It was the principle of the thing. I would not, could not, end up like my parents, like my grandmother.
