His mouth crashes over mine. He kisses me like he wants to own my soul. I kiss him back, wanting his in return. I vaguely sense him move and maneuver. And soon he enters me, his movements sure and steady.
Our gazes lock as he glides in and out of me, pleasure building and building and finally cresting like a powerful wave. I get lost in it, then hold him tight, like he’s the most precious thing in the world.
Because he is.
The thought crosses my mind as a second orgasm breaks over me. I clutch him as hard as I can as he joins me in sweet oblivion.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Court
I groan when I can catch my breath again. Then I carefully arrange things so we don’t crush each other in the Maserati.
Holy fuck. I’ve never done it in a Maserati before. I quit sex in vehicles as soon as Edgar got his own place with extra bedrooms because comfort trumps almost everything. What is it about Skittles that makes me lose my damn mind?
I turn my head and look at her face, beautifully glowing and flushed with pleasure. Her eyelids are drooping low, and a faint smile curves her swollen lips. The sight wraps around my heart like a hand a
nd squeezes gently. And I know she matters a lot more than I can fathom.
“My God. That was amazing,” she says with an overly casual grin. It’s like she’s sensed what’s going through my mind and decided it’s too serious for her.
Fine with me. “It was, even though my back is complaining.”
She laughs. “My hips feel a little, ah, stretched, too, but we’re young. We’ll recover.”
Then she starts to sit up and right her clothes, pushing her bra down and arranging it so it cups her breasts just so, her top covering her, the bunched skirt smoothed and stretched over her legs. I arch up, pull my pants up and try to make myself as presentable as possible.
“It’s a good thing we can bypass the lobby,” she says lightly as we exit the car. She runs her hands over her skirt, as though she can magically iron away the creases. “Can you imagine?”
I look her over from head to toe. She looks like a naughty goddess, her hair slightly messy, her lips a little bruised and her clothes mildly wrinkled. And I’m glad nobody’s going to see her like this—touchable and sweet…a man’s wet dream. It’s only for me.
Me.
The sudden possessiveness is startling. I’ve never felt anything like it with anyone else. But Skittles… She’s different. Like a special treasure I want to keep in a safe place only I know about.
“You look freakin’ amazing, and the concierge would’ve been too awe-struck to say hello.” I press a soft kiss on her forehead. “But I’m also glad nobody’s going to see you like this.”
She presses her lips together, but can’t hide a small smile. We take the elevator to the top floor, our hands linked. I kiss her fingers, one by one. “We need to celebrate your new job properly,” I say.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot to text everyone.” But instead of reaching for her phone, she presses closer, her head resting on my arm. “It can probably wait until later, though.”
The elevator stops and opens. We step out together, my arm around her shoulders, and stop abruptly.
My mother is in the foyer. I blink a few times, wondering if I’m hallucinating. What the hell is she doing here?
Vaguely I sense Skittles’ eyes boring into me. But I can’t face her. I don’t even know what the hell I’m going to say to Mom, much less Skittles.
Mom’s standing still, her chin held regally high. She’s gotten thinner. The bodice of her blue dress is slightly loose around the waist and hips. But the bright shine of her golden hair is the same. The weight loss brings out the stark structure of her delicate facial bones.
“Harcourt,” she says, her voice like an icicle—beautiful, frail and cold.
“Mom,” I say. “How did you get up here?”
“The concierge knows who I am. They didn’t want me loitering in the lobby like a nobody.”
They should’ve asked her to go home. I’m going to have a word with them later. “Mom, this isn’t the best time—”
“You should introduce me to your girl. This is your girlfriend, isn’t it?” Mom says dulcetly.