Stuck on You (Steamy Enemies To Lovers Rom Com)

His thumb brushes over my lips, and he smiles at me so softly to match his eyes. “I’m not going to pretend I’m a player or a stud. I’ve only dated casually in the past because I don’t do relationships or connections. I’m sorry to say it like that, but it was a mutual experience.”

“And that doesn’t make you a player?”

“I hope not.” He swallows so loudly that it seems to echo through the room. “I know people have this perception of me, but it was mostly from when I was younger. I smartened up a long time ago and started focusing on other things. I haven’t…that is…I might be a little rusty. I…good god, this is embarrassing. I haven’t had any sort of practice in somewhere around six months.”

Did I accuse him of being a player? Did I think it in my head, or did I say it out loud? I can’t remember now, but hearing him tell me all that is endearing in the strangest sort of way. It’s kind of cute, actually, how embarrassed he is.

“I have you beat,” I assure him. “Well then, the dummy round. Should we resume getting it out of the way?”

He smiles at me, and those dimples of his become evident again. How did I never notice them before? I think I might have seen one appear a few times, but I totally disregarded it, probably as a self-coping method to keep my internal organs safe. All of them, not just the ones involved in spontaneous ovulation.

“Yes. Yes, we should resume it.”

I grip Ash’s shoulders, watching in fascination how all of his muscles ripple as he moves above me. He fits himself to me and pauses there. I wrap my other leg around his hip, urging him forward. I’ve turned myself into a human monkey or a crab or something, but for once, I’m not worried about whether I look okay in this position or if something might be bulging weird or squishing funny.

Ash stretches me wide with his first thrust. It’s painful, and at first, all I feel is the shock of it, but by thrust number two, I’m already on board with this. By thrust three, I wonder how I ever lived my whole life without knowing this was possible. We fit perfectly. There’s a lot of wriggling and shifting on my end, but by the fourth thrust, I know beyond a doubt that it’s perfect.

By thrust five, I stop counting thrusts. I close my eyes and savor the sensation of being stretched wide open and filled so fully. Ash hits spots I didn’t know were in my own body, and I keep wriggling and squirming against him, urging him to discover and hit more spots. I pant and make little mewling noises, and when Ash’s mouth finds mine and claims those, I surrender them readily.

I arch my hips, angling to make it possible to take him even deeper. He thrusts hard, changing up the intensity. Our bodies slap together nosily, but even that is sexy and not something to cringe at and file away for later study in mortification.

“You’re so tight,” Ash groans.

I dig my nails into his shoulders just to hold on. “I think you’re supposed to tell me that right off the bat.”

“Maybe, but it’s just as hot now.”

He thrust again, filling me to the full, and I have to admit he’s right. We’re a good fit. A perfect fit. I crack an eye to watch Ash above me. He’s so hot. I love that he’s totally out of control, and his face is a mash of pleasure, desire, and concentration.

“So beautiful,” he mutters without looking at me. I’m looking right at him, so I know his eyes are closed. “So amazingly perfect.”

“So cursed,” I add out of nowhere, and Ash smiles so hard with his eyes still closed that his dimples appear again.

“So cursed.” It seems like the right thing to say. An agreement of sorts. Giving each other, one to the other.

I close my eyes again on the next thrust, which is harder and deeper still. We get lost in that, in each other, and honestly, I’m not sure this is a dummy round because Ash holds out longer than I do. There is no stopping the climax that bursts over me like a dam breaking and raining down beavers and sticks, and what else does a dam usually include? Anyway, whatever it’s raining down, it feels white-hot and utterly amazing, and I am just so lost. So, so lost. And so, so cursed.

I feel like we’re truly connected. Not just our bodies, but maybe, just for a second, our cursed hearts too. That maybe, just maybe, the ring didn’t get it wrong.

I excuse that immediately as a haywire thought brought on by the flashing and bright lights behind my eyes, the waves of pleasure rocking and crashing over me, and the brain spams that match the spasms of my lady cave.