“You’re mine, goddamnit,” I hissed. “I’m going to tie you up and I’m going to tease you until you beg me. And then—”
“What?” he demanded, pulling out of me, grabbing me by the hips and twisting me, shoving me with delicious roughness to the bed, pushing me to lean forward, spreading my thighs apart and driving into my pussy from behind. “What are you going to do to me then, Kyrie my love?”
“When you’re desperate to come, I’m going to ride you like a fucking wild stallion until you fill my tight wet pussy with your come. And I’m going to leave you tied up, get you hard again, and I’m going to ride you and ride you and ride you. I’m gonna fuck you raw, Valentine. I won’t let you touch me even once. Because I’m going to prove to you all over again that you belong to me as much as I belong to you.”
“You’ve proved it, my love.” He was moving slowly, now. Making love to me with aching, tender, gentility. I loved the juxtaposition. Usually from behind he was crazed and primal, and slow and gentle face to face. But this time he was caressing my spine, my shoulders, brushing my long blond hair out of the way, cupping my ass cheeks and gripping my hips, his cock gliding in and out of me with a slow, deliberate slide.
Oh fuck, I was close.
He was, too. I stretched out, pushed back into his thrusts. Felt him take my hips at the creases, pulled me into him, my ass crushing against him, providing a thick, bouncy cushion. God, yes. Yes. I knew I was being loud, and I buried my face in the mattress and let myself scream into the comforter as he made sweet slow love to me until I came.
And god, did I come.
But he held out. He waited until I was gasping and trembling to pull out.
I twisted in place and lay back on the bed, wrapped my legs around him, reached between us and guided him back in. I knew his needs, his rhythms; he needed to look at me when he came, knew that’s what I needed too.
I was hanging nearly off the bed, just my upper spine and shoulders still supported by the mattress, the rest of my weight held up by my Valentine. He drove into me now in slow hard thrusts, his eyes on mine. I felt him thicken with each thrust as he drew closer and closer to the edge, and when I knew he was right there, I reached up, grabbed him by the neck and pulled him down to me, crushed my lips to his and kissed him with all that I had.
He lost it, then. He groaned into the kiss, broke it to rest his forehead between my breasts and thrust into me wildly, all control abandoned.
“I love you,” I whispered as he pushed into me again and again. I made it a chant, clutching his head and writhing against him. “IloveyouIloveyouILOVEyou—”
And then he was emptying himself into me with a shout against my skin, sweat slicking his hard flesh, his hot wet seed gushing into me in wave after wave, thrust after thrust. When he was finally spent, he lay on me for a long moment, gasping. I loved the weight of him against me. I caressed his scalp, his neck, his shoulders, his arms, feathered my fingers through his hair and listened to him breathing.
“I’m sober, now,” I said, when he lifted up to gaze down at me.
“How do you always know exactly what I need to hear the most, Kyrie?” He whispered, thumbing a stray lock of hair away from my face.
“Because we’re one person split into two bodies, Valentine. I know what you need to hear because it’s what I need to make you understand, what I need to say to you.”
“I love you more than I know how to express, Kyrie.”
“You should marry me,” I said with a grin. “That will express it pretty damn well.”
“Then you’d better get some sleep,” he said, his expression going serious. “Because that’s happening tomorrow.”
He nodded. Leaned down, kissed me. “Tomorrow.”
To Preorder Omega, just click on your favorite store below:
*will release at B&N on August 4th*
*coming soon to Audible*