Travis (Pelion Lake 1)

God, it was good. It was sweet and it was hot and I never ever wanted it to end.

She’d said she wasn’t a great dancer, but she could move. I watched her, awestruck. The visual of her slow, erotic hip rolls. The slight bounce of her perfect breasts. The way her internal muscles clenched and slid.

I was going to die of pleasure.

Her grip tightened on my shoulders and, for a few minutes, she rode me slowly, small, bliss-filled gasps falling from her lips with each downward press.

She leaned back slightly and for a few moments we both watched as the hard peaks of her nipples rubbed against my chest. “Oh, Travis. God. Everything. I just . . .”

Me too. Me too.

Despite the slow rhythm, I felt my orgasm stirring and squeezed the arms of the chair, trying desperately not to come before she did. “Haven,” I gasped, and as if she heard my desperation in that one uttered word, she sped up, digging her nails into my skin, and riding me in earnest.

I moved my hands around her body, cupping her ass and taking some of the weight off her thighs, which had to be aching. The pads of my fingertips pressed into the skin around the place we were connected, slick with her arousal, the juices not only assisting in my effortless glide in and out of her body, but running down her thighs. The knowledge of the extent of her lust caused a dizzying swirl of excitement to cascade through my body, tightening my stomach muscles, and sending shock waves to my cock.

I was lost. No longer in control . . . if I ever had been.

I could do nothing to stop the rising bliss, had no choice but to ride it as it crested and broke, my hips bucking as I came seconds before she did, her head going back as she let out a small scream.

Haven fell forward, her slick skin meeting mine, both of us shaking in the aftermath. Our hearts slammed against one another’s, her breath gusting over my skin and cooling the perspiration that had gathered at the base of my throat. I brought my arms around her and held her close, our bodies still connected. My lips feathered along her hairline as I murmured her name, kissing and soothing her because I sensed that she needed it in some way she would not ask for. We stayed just that way for long minutes, our hearts slowing and reality descending.

“Hallelujah,” I whispered, turning my head and kissing her temple. I felt her smile against the side of my throat.

And though I said the word with some amount of levity, it felt apropos in a way I couldn’t quite describe. There had been something almost . . . sacred about what I’d just experienced. But in the moment, my brain was too clouded with pleasure to think too deeply on that or anything else.

“Hallelujah, indeed,” she whispered back.

**********

I brought the blanket up over her shoulder and she snuggled in to me. “I love this sexy, green thumb,” I said, picking up her hand and kissing the aforementioned thumb, closing my lips around it and sucking gently.

She laughed softly and I smiled, holding it against my lips for a moment, my vision going momentarily hazy as I recalled the bliss of her lips around a different part of my anatomy. But despite the arousing picture in my mind, my body was heavy with satisfaction and I didn’t think I could have moved if a tornado siren went off, warning of imminent danger.

I could see the news print now.

They were swept away, right along with The Yellow Trellis Inn, paralyzed from too much mind-blowing sex. Or that’s what reports from the other guests say it sounded like anyway, right before the rest of them dove into the storm cellar to save themselves.

I turned my head slightly, my gaze falling on the plant next to my bed, the one I’d talked to on the first night I’d arrived here. Something about the memory of that night brought a measure of what I could only call melancholy. I both hated and longed for the time before I knew I faced certain emotional disaster. A storm was coming. I smelled it in the air like the metallic tinge of an approaching lightning strike. “How will you bear leaving all your plants behind?” I murmured.

How will you bear leaving me behind?

She breathed out a soft breath. “With happiness. I’ll know I leave a piece of myself behind, and that a small corner of the world is better because of it.” She paused. “Maybe you’ll check on the ones here now and again . . . make sure they’re doing okay.”

“I will,” I said softly.

I rubbed her thumb idly along my bottom lip, not wanting to consider that time. The time when she’d no longer be here. “You’ve left your rescue plants everywhere along your path, haven’t you? Even in the place you started out.” Your home. The one that puts sadness in your eyes.