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But I’m a grown ass man. I know she likes what she sees.
As if she agrees, she moves onto my lap, taking over as I lean back against the tree. When she sinks onto my cock, I try to rein in the desire to hold her there and never let her go.
She’s wrapped around me in a snug grip that confirms that this is where I’m supposed to be. Right here with her.
As she rides me, the guttural tones coming out of me are come from an ache that feels foreign. Like I’d yearned to fuck like this, in a way that includes feelings and longing.
I push her hair from her face and yank her to kiss me, loving the way she makes little sounds of her own. We chase our orgasms with our mouths joined, sharing the same breath. I can feel the orgasm rolling through me and I try to keep it at bay, but the way she grips me makes it impossible.
And as she uses my body for her pleasure, unknowingly bringing me alongside her, I know this is right where I want her.
If only I can figure out a world where this exists.
I’ll create one, if I have to.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CONCRETE HEART
ELOISE
I hadsex with Ezra against a tree. It was fucking incredible.
And when we were done, I didn’t run away.
I walked inside, used his restroom, stood awkwardly as he handed me a bottle of water, and then made my excuse to leave. So, notquiterunning, but maybe a slight jog.
Vulnerability is not my strong suit. Neither is afterglow.
I’ve had sex. It isn’t something foreign to me, although the lack of sex I had before Ezra made it seem more like a distant memory of another life.
But sex with Ezra is…different.
It’s lust-driven and mind-numbing. It’s fluid and compulsory. It’s like dying to take your next breath while riding a wave that threatens to steal it from you.
I turn over in my bed, adjusting my pillow and staring out at the moon through my gauzy white curtains. The hum of my fan and the sounds of the crickets outside are all I have to keep me company.
I wonder if Ezra is asleep. And if he is, how big is his bed? What color are his sheets? Does he sleep naked?
The thought makes me groan.
I hadn’t really seen his dick before but now that I have…the memory of its impressive length and thick girth makes me ache to press my thighs together. The thought of finally touching his naked chest, having pulled his shirt from his body in our hedonistic frenzy. Finally feeling his bare skin brush against my nipples.
I’d had the most intense orgasm, and, in this moment, I could go for another.
I’m tempted to pleasure myself, but the idea of experiencing something far tamer than the passionate and cathartic episode earlier keeps me from even trying.
I can’t turn my brain off; I can’t keep the memories from caressing my most sensitive places and making me crazy with the desire to reach out to him.
This is lust.
This is what fills the pages in my bookstore.
This is what I’ve lacked and the thought of finally experiencing it terrifies me. I don’t want to open myself to a life where my happiness hangs on the existence of another person.
Because I’ve seen what happens when people you rely on don’t exist anymore.
Lives change. Plans change. Your life becomes something you never thought it could be.
