Veiled (Ada Palomino 1)

And I’m enslaved to it.

I am equally as savage, desperate and crazed.

I rake my nails down his back drawing blood, and he’s biting my neck until the skin breaks and we’re two sweaty, frenzied animals who buck and pull and slam against each other at a breakneck pace.

He’s grabbing the headboard now, pulling us both up so we’re not falling off the bed and I watch with wide eyes as he hovers over me, each straining muscle, glistening with sweat. His face is the picture of pure determination as he works me hard.

He might pull that headboard right off, is my last thought before my brain gets gummy and the world swells with warmth. My body is close to the edge and I hover in the split-second before the fall as all the switches in me flick to on.

Keep going.

Keep going.

Keep going.

I pull him even closer, rutting up into him, hunting my release.

Keep –

I go off, the spark at the end of the fuse, and just before I pinch my eyes shut, unable to control any part of my body, I glance at Jay. He’s staring down at me in amazement, maybe even pride, like he’s seeing something most people never see, like a meteor shower at sunset, or dawn from the top of Everest. He’s looking at me like I’m the most beautiful sight he’ll ever witness and that I’m his and always will be.

Then the orgasm becomes too much and I close my eyes and I’m molten, lava flowing through me, igniting my soul as my legs quiver and my body jerks and I’m just completely obliterated. I’m sure there are bits of me all over the place, like I’ve exploded into fiery confetti.

Jay lets out a hoarse cry and starts slamming into me harder. The air crackles between us and time seems to slow down. Maybe it really is slowing down. I can see and feel everything he’s doing to me in perfect clarity while the room starts to buzz, a glow entering all corners of my vision.

My eyes are glued again to Jay as he comes, his rhythm frantic and punishing and making up for so much lost time. His gazes at me in surprise, like he’s caught off guard, and then his head is arched back, his neck exposed. A thick, inhumane roar comes from his lips as they fall open, then softens into a groan.

The strangest thing is that I think I can feel him as he comes, like he’s filling me with heat and starlight and it’s seeping through every inch of me. The sensation is as supernatural as he is.

His pumping slows and finally stills, arms braced on the headboard, his head hanging, the sweat dripping onto my chest. Then he comes down, his breath still ragged, and props himself on his elbows on either side of my head.

We don’t speak.

Not with our mouths.

We speak with our eyes, the way he looks over me with so much tenderness and awe it nearly brings me to tears.

We speak with our hands, as my fingers skirt down his damp spine, as his thumbs brush the hair off my face.

We speak with our lips as he places his against mine, soft and sweet and still needy underneath.

We speak with our bodies as he rests inside me, still pulsing, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He’s almost getting hard all over again.

And that’s all we need to say to each other.

Our breaths are caught, our sweat is cooled.

And we start all over again.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I’ve always been the first one to roll my eyes at Cosmopolitan when the cover promises “Mind-blowing Orgasms Tonight!” or when girls wax about how awesome some guy was in bed. I figured the whole world was lying to me, because when I had sex with Dillon, my mind wasn’t blown. If anything was blown, it was him, a thankless job.

Sex was never horrible—except for the first time, in the back of his car, where it not only hurt because the asshole didn’t believe in foreplay and I was too unschooled to know what I wanted, but it was awkward too. We didn’t know each other’s bodies at all and Dillon didn’t really care. So sex during our relationship had just been okay. I never came and I only figured out the magic of masturbation after we broke up, but I put up with it because this was it, the thing that’s supposed to change your life.

But now I get it. Now I understand and I understand in such a way that I’m thinking back to those Cosmo covers and I know they have no idea. No idea what mind-blowing really is.

Because what Jay and I have, what we share, goes beyond sex. The sex goes beyond sex. I’m sure if the rest of the world just experienced what I experienced, humanity would end up dead in their bedrooms. This is the kind of sex that makes you crave more of it, that has you forgoing food and water and sunlight and proper speech, just to have one small taste of ecstasy.