I’d spent so much of tonight feeling weird and uncomfortable until he dropped all my shields with that no-holds-barred sex. But now, he appeared to be the awkward one.
He scraped a hand over the back of his head. “I’m not pretty like your boyfriend. And I know…I know women like that.”
It was funny. How many women had acted like I was so lucky to have such a traditionally handsome boyfriend. A few of them had stared at us on the street, their thoughts as noisy as shouts. How did she manage to land him?
But I realized something for the first time at that moment.
The things that made people most attractive had almost nothing to do with facial symmetry.
“No, you’re not pretty,” I agreed. “But I don’t care about that. You were the person your grandma asked for when she got hurt. You came to get me when Dawn needed someone to check over her baby. You sang me happy birthday after the worst night of my life. And now you’ve given me, hands-down, the best sex I’ve ever had. To me, you’re beautiful—plus, it’s only fair to let me see your cum face since you’ve seen mine so many times tonight.
He chuckled, the sound a low grumble in his chest. Then he said, “Alright. As long as you promise me one thing...”
“What?” I asked without reservation, feeling bold and sexy—yet another thing I could credit to the Dragon in front of me.
“Don’t ever bring up my grandma again while we’re smashing,” he answered.
This was only a one-night stand, but I couldn’t help but laugh and wince. “Yes, yes…I hear it now. You almost lost your erection, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did,” he let me know with a disgruntled shake of his head. But then he sobered to say, “Olivia.”
His voice was so serious. I couldn’t tell if he was asking for my full attention or commanding it. Either way, I answered, “Yes?”
“Happy birthday, beautiful.”
He claimed my mouth and fell back on the bed with me. No more back and forth, no more jokes. He just pushed right into me and began taking me again with deep, powerful thrusts.
He felt even larger inside me at this angle, and I widened my legs to give him some room, to take him even deeper. And this time…
This time I wasn’t surprised when the orgasm crested over me just a few minutes later. Of course, it did. I’d learned to expect it, and when that fifth train came thundering through me, I climbed aboard and hung on as it lifted off the tracks and throttled me into outer space.
“Five…five…five,” somebody was chanting as I floated back down to Earth and found myself underneath the Dragon’s frantically rutting body.
But then he suddenly stopped and bit out, “Fuck, beautiful.” He pushed into me with one final shove. Then his entire body spasmed as he released into the condom.
Some feminine instinct made me wrap both my arms and legs around him. I held on as best I could, anchoring him like he’d anchored me earlier when I thought the orgasm might actually tear me apart.
It was the least I could do. I’d never felt so wanted. So satisfied. So….so….everything that I suspected could exist with sex but didn’t know for sure until this moment.
It was like that final note, Sirena Gale hit at the end of the opera, Chrysanthemum. She held you inside of it for so long that anyone with a soul was weeping by the time she released you from its thrall.
Actually, it was exactly like that. I didn’t realize I was crying until The Dragon said, “Sssh, it’s okay. It’s okay….”
He rolled us onto our sides and wrapped me up in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, sniffling into his barrel chest. “It was just so good.”
He chuffed. “Hey, don’t be sorry, beautiful. If you wanted to make me feel like a king, this is how you do it.
And just like that, I went from crying to laughing.
“Seriously, you could teach a masterclass,” he told me. “Hey, this is Dr. Olivia with a message for all you women. You want to make a man happy in bed, all you gotta do is come five times in a row and cry legit tears because”—he put on a high southern falsetto to imitate me, “’ It was just so good! Nobody does it like you, Phantom!’”
I stopped laughing to ask, “Is that your name? Phantom? I thought maybe it was Hak-kan. That was what your grandma called you, right?”
He stopped laughing too. And it felt like a decision when he said, “Hak-kan is my Chinese name. Phantom is what everybody else calls me.”
“Really? Not Hawk?” I asked. “I mean, as far as American nicknames go, that one’s pretty intimidating.”
He stilled. “Alright, now I’m pissed that I didn’t think of that. You’re right. Hawk is totally bad-ass.”