He buried his face in my neck, our hands locked above us on the rungs of the headboard as he nailed me into the bed.
My name was a guttural growl as he flung his head back.
I swear I felt him pulse inside me. He ground himself against me and my perfectly abused flesh stretched and yearned for more. I locked my ankles at the small of his back and held him tight against me.
“Fuck, Zoe. Fuck.” He loomed over me, his face distressed and blissful at the same time. As if coming was as much pleasure as pain for him too.
He dropped on top of me. I was afraid my fingers were broken from his grip, but they weren’t. The one thing about me that was stronger than anything were my hands. I wrapped my arms around his back, my legs still locked at his hips. Finally, I was allowed to hold on to every inch of him. Shudders racked my body.
He tried to roll off me. “I’m too heavy.”
“Stay.”
He pressed hi
s face into my neck, but he did prop himself up on his forearms. I didn’t realize I was close to suffocating, but I still wanted to drag him back down on me.
You are in such trouble, girl.
Just fucking.
Sure it was.
I was even more twisted up about him now that I knew it wasn’t just fascination talking. I’d been fascinated before. I was an artist, it was inevitable that things would pull at me until I could figure them out. Nope. This was way worse and way more dangerous because he was going to walk out my door again.
And there was nothing I could do about it.
I turned my face into his neck. The woodfire scent of him had imprinted on my brain. He’d forever be burning leaves to me. The ashes of a healthy, sturdy tree. Living more than half my life on the edges of an orchard taught me a lot about the cycles of things. Then I went and moved to California, where seasons didn’t exist. Maybe Ian would just be one of my seasons.
I kissed my way up his neck to his ear. He lifted his shoulder and tried to twist away. “Are you ticklish?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
It was the second time he’d said he wasn’t. Such a liar.
I blew on his ear and he couldn’t get off me fast enough. I couldn’t stop laughing as he crawled off the bed and looked down at his still half-hard cock. Damn, son. How it could still be even close to alive after what he’d done to me was impressive.
He shot me a side eye. “Purple?”
I rolled onto my belly and dragged a pillow under my head. “I didn’t hear you complaining a few minutes ago.”
He shrugged. “Fair.” His face took on this cute little expression, complete with a wrinkled nose and bashfulness. “Stop staring at me like that or I’ll use the other condom on you.”
“Heaven forbid.” I swung my legs, crossed at the ankle. “I like looking at you.”
“Get in line.”
“What was that part about not caring about other women in your bed?”
He sat on the side of the bed, completely comfortable being naked. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.” He leaned down and buzzed his nose against mine. “I’m fucking famished.”
I didn’t really know it, but I let it go. There were no strings in our day. It simply was. “I think we need to go get some food.”
He rolled onto the bed and rested his head on my butt. “Can’t we just order in and play naked all day?”
“Well, considering we only have one more condom in my stash, that’s probably not a good idea.”
“What? You’re not into the…what do you Americans call it? Rhythm method?”