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Queen of Love

Page 72

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That was the kind of pleasure Aya gave her, right there in that empty closet.

I’m gone. Genevieve could hardly clasp onto Aya’s body any longer. As her nails grazed the soft tank top separating her from Aya’s skin, her hips slipped away from the dresser and her head almost knocked back against the closet wall. Aya caught her, pulling her closer before sitting her on the furniture again.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Aya said right into Genevieve’s ear.

“Aren’t you ready?”

Aya’s thumb caught against Genevieve’s bottom lip, pulling over her mouth until her tongue tasted nothing but the skin dancing upon it. “It’s not about me. It’s about you. Scream as loudly as you want in here. This apartment can take it.”

Genevieve slammed herself forward, pushing the limits of Aya’s strength. As the physical sensation of the strap-on almost overwhelmed her, she sighed, “I always do. I can’t help it when I’m with you.”

She sealed that statement with a kiss. The kind that swallowed her cry of pleasure.

The relentless movements sending her over the edge were enough to make them both collapse in exhaustion, but Genevieve was determined to stay on that dresser and come as loudly as she dared. As her voice echoed in the closet, Aya whispered something Genevieve had no hope in hell of understanding.

There was also something Genevieve could not prevent, no matter how much her subconscious begged her lips to not yet make such a romantic faux pas.

“Wo nàme xihuan ni…”

Instead of melting into the afterglow that was the frenzied sex they had in an empty closet, Genevieve immediately plummeted into a pit of shame. She hoped to God Aya wasn’t familiar with a Chinese phrase like “I love you so much.” To expose her heart like this right now? When things were going so right with Aya?

It could ruin everything. It could bring the Queen of Love down to her rug burned knees.

Aya was oblivious, though. She gave one last loving kiss to Genevieve’s face before pulling away. She offered to help Genevieve off the dresser. The only reason she accepted was because her legs were stiff, her head was gone and her balance was as good as murdered.

“Was that worth the wait?” Aya asked as Genevieve futilely searched for her bearings.

“Yes.” Genevieve pushed her hair out of her face. Her fingers tried to straighten it, but a tangle blocked their efforts. “I definitely wasn’t expecting it.”

Aya’s flushed face implied she had enjoyed it as well, although her cool demeanor prevented her from saying that right now. “We can use the bathroom. Come on.”

“What?” Genevieve attempted to put her embarrassing moment behind her as she followed Aya out of the closet, her underwear loose around her body. God, I’m practically naked! Good thing she hadn’t opted for the window! “No quip about how I have to buy this place now? Because my DNA is all over it?”

“No. I’d like to think you already know why you need to buy it.” Aya flipped on the fan in the bathroom before entering. “Because it’s the place where I really made you mine.”

Genevieve hesitated in the doorway. Her bra gave up the ghost, the straps falling down her arms until everything was on the floor. “You mean that?”

Aya picked up the bra and handed it back to Genevieve, who had never felt like such a blissed-out mess in a place that wasn’t – yet – hers.

“By the way.” Aya held up the underwear she had removed from Genevieve back in the closet. “I’m keeping these. I’m sure you understand.”

“A trophy!”

“A keepsake.”

Genevieve attempted to take back her underwear, but Aya held the small piece of cotton behind her back. “I don’t ask much of you.”

“Only that I buy a place that you picked out for me.”

“Are you telling me that you don’t like it?”

Genevieve couldn’t feign ire any longer. She flung herself against Aya, knocking them both against the bathroom counter as they shared a kiss. “I love it,” Genevieve whispered. “Almost as much as I love this apartment.”

They were beyond handshakes now, so they sealed the deal the only way they knew how. No matter what, I’m somehow naked. Genevieve didn’t mind. She was more than used to being so vulnerable around the woman who now owned more than her desires.

She owns me. All of me. That was a powerful thing to admit at this point in Genevieve’s life. She simply hoped her heart didn’t end up broken. Again.



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