Page 182 of Fallen Rook

“I never hated you. I only hated myself, for knowing I could never deserve you. But that didn’t stop me, either.”

He was wrong. He deserved so much better. But I wasn’t altruistic enough to point that out.

“Baby…”

“Hmm?” I gazed up at him dreamingly.

“Why does it look like you ejaculated glue all over yourself?”

I looked down. The whipped cream had melted sometime during Tom’s attempt to extinguish the fire I’d started in his living room. Wow. This was the worst grand gesture in the history of the world.

I spat out the rose, grabbing the pillow behind me and pressing it onto my face to muffle my scream of frustration.

Muscular thighs bracketed my waist, and when I threw the pillow off my face, I looked up and saw him grinning down at me.

“Hi.” His mouth was an inch from mine.

“Hi.” I licked my lips, my gaze traveling down to his strained slacks. “I’m ruining your Prada with the melted whipped cream.”

“I can buy another pair. I can’t buy another Enzo.” He leaned down, spearing my mouth open with his tongue and kissing the ever-loving fuck out of me. A moan of pleasure ripped from the depths of my throat, and I arched, my body chasing his. He grabbed the sides of my face and deepened the kiss, his mouth exploring all the sensitive places he knew drove me mad. When I started leaking cum, desperate for more, he grabbed me by the hip bone and flipped me over with such ease I second-guessed my huge form.

“Hands and knees,” was all he said, and it was enough to make me kneel, sticking my ass up in the air in offering. There was no time for him to get undressed, no patience for niceties. He rolled the drawer of his nightstand open, pumped out two shots of lube, slicked his dick, and entered me from behind, sliding all the way in and filling me to the brim.

I threw my head back, tears stinging my eyes.

Gone were the love declarations and choked-up moments of softness. It was obvious that we were fucking like our lives depended on it, because after over a month…they kind of did. Tom went absolutely wild on my ass.

With each thrust, he was nailing me deeper into his mattress, the momentum and impact each time he drove home making it impossible for me to lift my head from the pillow. I actually thought I was going to suffocate there for a second. The idea was immediately followed by giddiness.

Breath play? Don’t mind if I do.

The harder he fucked me, the closer I got to the holy grail of orgasms.

When my harsh moans turned into unintelligible praise in Italian, he grabbed me by the hair and pushed me up so I was on my knees. I had to brace both hands against the headboard and still use all my core power to stay in this position, because my hunky demon of a boyfriend did not stop fucking me even for one damn second.

His mouth was on my ear, his chest pressing against my back. “I hope you know I bought a bottle of lube every day you were gone so we could make up for it.”

“Fuck, Tomcat.” I threw the back of my head against his shoulder in a moan, and, opportunist that he was, he used the angle to suck on my neck and leave a hickey. “We’re not leaving the bed all weekend.”

“All year,” he corrected me.

“Decade.” I pushed into his dick, falling back down on my hands and knees. He lodged one of his feet on the mattress to reposition himself, and that was when I noticed he was still wearing his wingtips. He hadn’t even taken them off before fucking me.

Oh, fuck. Why was that so hot?

We were a total mess, and I was eating it up like there was no tomorrow.

“I’m coming,” I grunted, and he picked up his pace, reaching for my dick from behind and finishing me off with rough tugs. He knew just how I liked to be touched, and I blew my load all over the headboard, before collapsing against it like a cartoon character that hit a wall.

That didn’t stop him from fucking me, either. He pushed a few more times, emptied inside me with a warrior cry, and took me down with him when he fell sideways on the bed.

For a moment, we just caught our breaths, staring at the ceiling, too stunned to even look at each other. There was silence, but it wasn’t awkward. More like contentment. Everything had been hashed out, more or less. I didn’t give half a shit that he was unemployed. I could keep us both afloat. As long as we could be together, nothing else mattered.

He turned to face me, staring at my profile.

I wanted to capture this moment just a few seconds longer. The bliss of not having to use words or make promises. To just be.

“Give me fifteen minutes, and we’re going on round two.” He kissed my shoulder, breaking the silence.