Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
I know this is it. I’ve just taken him to that spot inside me, and he’s dragging himself in and out, filling me over and over, bumping into the button that makes my brain short circuit. His hands dig into my hips. I love the feel of his fingers, big and strong, guiding me gently, urging me. I’m less gentle with his shirt. With his neck.
But it’s not enough. I’m going to come apart, and his neck isn’t going to hold the sound of all that pleasure in. I keep rocking, not daring to break the rhythm. I don’t think I could tear myself away if I wanted to. Our bodies fit perfectly together, and he’s glorious under me. I caress Van’s face with my hands, smoothing them over the stubble on his cheeks before I tear my panties out of his mouth and seal my lips over his.
At the taste of myself on him, the taste of him and me together, I fall over the edge. I can feel myself closing around him, the spasms shredding through me. I can feel myself shaking, and then it really hits—the pleasure, a livewire jolt that flies through me. My body locks around Van’s as I explode. I whimper and mewl, the pleasure coating every inch of me, changing me like a chemical reaction. I hang on, scrabbling at his shirt, still rolling with his rhythm because I need him to come with me. I want him to tumble over the edge with me as I kiss all my elation and pain and triumph and surrender against his lips. He drinks down the sounds and kisses me back.
Then, he tears his mouth away, and we both gasp. “Remi,” he groans, just my name, before he takes my lips again, kissing me like a hurricane. He’s a storm crashing all around me, landing all around me. All of my life, I’ve wanted him. I’ve wanted him for so long that it feels like I could die at this moment. I could die of happiness, torture, and needing him so fucking bad that I can’t breathe through it.
When Van groans and tenses under me, all his muscles become rock hard. He keeps going, but then he stills, and I can feel him throbbing inside me, shuddering beneath me. “Fuck, Remi,” he pants against my mouth, so quietly, so raw. “Fuck.”
He sends me spiraling all over again. I can’t stop, and the second climax hurts more than the first. It’s way more intense. I feel like my body is breaking apart, splintering around Van. My heart might be splintering around him too. In a good way. Even after my hips stop rolling, he stops pumping, and we’re both quiet and still, I can feel myself trembling around him from the inside out. I’m so lightheaded and boneless that I don’t feel real anymore. I feel like I could float away, but Van’s arms come around me to steady me. He pulls me down against him, gently, always so gentle, and I stretch out on top of him before he guides me to the side—guides us both to the side. He holds me, pressing little kisses against the crown of my head. I breathe in deep, inhaling a real breath—a full breath—because this really just happened, and it was more perfect than anything I’ve ever known. My chest floods with happiness.
I nuzzle against him, kissing his neck and stroking his face, my eyes still closed. I’m afraid to open them. I’m afraid that if I do, this is all going to go away. I don’t want this to have been a dream.
It was real. It was real. It was real.
“I need you,” he whispers against my hair, raw and vulnerable and soft. “God, Remi, I need you.”
My arms close around his neck, and I brush my lips over his. “I need you too, Van. I need you too.”
CHAPTER 14
Van
People say things happen in the heat of the moment, but it’s been a week, and I still need Remi just as badly. Probably more. I’ve held myself back. I’ve craved her all week, wanted her, dreamed about her, lain awake multiple nights thinking about her.
When she texts me and tells me to come over because her parents are out doing softball stuff again, I come. Not through the window but through the front door. Sheepish. Scared. I’m as nervous as last time but not such a hot mess this time. Although, I didn’t bring flowers. I should have brought flowers. Or maybe even some gravy as an offering.
She sweeps into my arms, launching herself at me in a streaking blur of black T-shirt and blue cut-off jean shorts as soon as I get through the door. After sliding the lock in place, she then half climbs me, but only half because I’m already lifting her up. Her arms twine around my neck, and my hands cup her lovely, curvy bottom to hold her up as she peppers my face with kisses before I finally pull myself together, get situated, and tilt my face up for a real kiss.