Bastian's Storm (Surviving Raine 2)

“Good,” she replied. “That’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Anything you want,” I said. “It’s yours. Just keep doing that.”

“Is that all you want?” she asked with a sly smile. “You are easy to please.”

“Tease,” I mumbled. I tilted my hips up and ground against her.

“I don’t think you can call me that when I’m naked and on top of you,” she said.

“I can when I’m not buried inside that quivering vagina of yours.”

“Quivering vagina?” Raine started laughing, and I grinned up at her like the love-struck idiot I was.

“You know,” I said, “the one hiding in your moist triangle of curls.”

“Way to set the mood!” She rolled her eyes at me.

“Set the mood for my purple helmeted warrior? He’s just dying to fight his way through your underbrush.”

“That’s it,” she said as she started to get off of me.

I grabbed her wrists and held her in place. She laughed as she struggled, and I pulled her down to me and tickled her sides, which just made her laugh harder.

“Shhh,” I whispered, “you’ll wake Alex.”

She covered her mouth with one hand as she tried to gain a bit of control.

“Where do you come up with that stuff?” she asked.

“I used to watch a lot of porn,” I admitted. “Oh, and I got Penthouse—you know, for the articles.”

More eye-rolling. I responded by pulling her back down on my cock. Raine groaned and moved her hips in time with mine. I found her throat with my mouth and tongue, tasting her flesh as my hand came up to cup her breast and pull at the nipple.

“Oh, God…Bastian…”

“Shh…”

She bit down on her lip and closed her eyes. I couldn’t wait any longer, so I sat up and rolled her on her back. Stroking down her side, I stopped at her thigh and lifted it up over my hip before I slid into her.

Our sounds were rhythmic, like ocean surf rolling over smooth sands after a summer storm. We moved slowly, purposefully, completely calm in our love for each other. Raine’s head tilted back and her mouth opened slightly. I counted every breath she took, timing them with my own.

With an increased pace, I moved inside of her. Raine twisted her legs around mine and gripped my arms tightly. She lifted her hips as her face contorted, and she gritted her teeth to keep from crying out loud. The sight was more than I could stand, and I followed her lead with a blissful groan.

My heart continued to race as I held myself deep inside of her and tried to make mental contact with any part of my body. It all seemed to be in some sort of post orgasmic shock, though, and kept insisting my legs were no longer attached to the rest of me.

With a final shudder, I kissed her lightly on the temple and rolled onto my back, exhausted. My leg throbbed, which it often did after overuse, but I ignored it. It was my final tournament injury—the last scar to leave its mark on my body and soul.

“I love you,” Raine said softly as she curled up against me and planted kisses on my shoulder.

I turned my head to look at her. Her hair was a mess all over her head and around her shoulders, and her makeup was smeared under her eyes. There were splotchy red marks all over her face from our tryst—the most beautiful sight in the world.

She was my drink—the only one I would ever want again.

I touched the tip of my finger to her cheek and stroked slowly downward.

“And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,