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"I love you," he rasps in my ear as he releases inside me, deep and warm, his body twitching and quivering against my backside.
Before I have a chance to recover, come down from the high of having every part of him this way, he slips out of his spot beside me, shifts so he's settled on his knees at my entrance again, me still on my side.
"Don't you need a break?" It comes out breathy, fluttery, seductively.
"Not tonight," he peers down at me, his eyes dark, heavy, smoldering.
He lifts my leg up, hooks it over his shoulder, bends my other leg in front of me, rests his hand on my side.
I scrunch my eyes as he pushes back into me, my hips jerk and I see stars, freaking stars, as he thrusts deeper than he ever has before. Hitting some place in me I don't think anyone else ever will, ever could.
"Wh-what are you doing to me?" I ask as he pounds back into me, over and over and over again.
Liquid floods from my core, all over my legs and his.
"I'm ruining you for all other men," he moans as he runs his hand over my juices, brings his fingers to his lips, sucks the taste of me off them.
I don't even bother holding back as my orgasm ripples through me, achy and hot and sweaty. Everything pulses and throbs as I let myself go in his grasp.
"Don't," I try to catch my breath, "stop."
He doesn't.
And by the time he's done with me, I'm exhausted, spent, worn, but blissfully satisfied as he pulls me into his arms, warms my body with his, kisses my neck and cheeks and forehead.
If I could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him, I would never leave.
—
I hear my phone vibrating on the table beside me. The room is pitch black as I fumble for it, my fingers scraping against the sharp edge of the wood.
Mom calling.
Fear grips my heart.
"Mom?" I say groggily into the phone.
"It's time," she sobs. "D-Diane…"
I sit up straight, my heart pounding rapidly in my chest as I look over at Kyle sleeping beside me.
It's time to go home.
To say goodbye to Diane.
I don't know if I'm ready.
Chapter 54
It's still dark. Pitch black. Not even five in the morning. But we're on the road.
Snow flurries are coming down in quick succession, sticking to the windshield and the slippery road, the windshield wipers vigorously swiping them off the glass surface as soon as they appear.
I watch from the passenger seat as Kyle grips the steering wheel tighter. He swallows hard, his throat bobbing, his jawline tense, his teeth clenched. He removes an unsteady hand from the steering wheel and places it over his chest, tries to calm the turmoil I know is swirling around in there.
"Do you need..." but I trail off, suddenly subconscious that it might not be my place to suggest what I'm suggesting.
His dark eyes flick to me as he nods his head.
