I kissed him back, my pussy clenching around his cock again, hungering for something other than sweet. As much as love notes and heart confessions ought to woo a girl…I didn’t need wooing.
I needed fucking…now.
“What about your son?” I murmured, arching my back and rocking my hips into his.
He groaned, grinding with me, changing my rhythm into an erotic beat. “What about him?”
I frowned as the man drove upward, thrusting deep, signalling whatever softness existed was now over. “You can’t do that to him. I’m his.”
“As far as I’m concerned, I have no fucking son.” His jaw clenched as need sizzled hotter between us. He smiled viciously as he claimed me. “You belong to me now, and I’m not the sharing type.”
He thrust harder, quicker, digging my spine into the carpet, adding fuel to the elixir in my blood. My body hummed with pleasure, making me dance on the precipice of another release.
“You’re mine.” He continued rutting into me, deeper, faster. His hair flopped over his forehead as he planted his hands into the carpet and fed every inch of his cock into me. “And fuck if that’s not going to be the crux of so many problems.”
He said things I wanted to hear…but his voice wasn’t right. His face wasn’t the one I wanted to see. He meant nothing to me other than someone to scratch my sexual itch.
So…I closed my eyes and pretended.
I permitted every atom to spindle and spiral in my core for someone else.
Sully.
“Yes. God, yes.”
“Fuck, I want you.” His nose nuzzled my throat as I let go. “Come for me. That’s it. Come.”
I obeyed.
Wave after wave, rapture and paradise and nirvana and every other word that Sully had copyrighted—owning them with his euphoric fantasies, owning me as I served within his command—raced through my mind as I milked him.
Sully!
I swallowed his name but I came for him.
I came as another man fucked me.
The guest followed me into bliss, growling his release as he jerked deep inside me.
The second he finished climaxing, he withdrew, splashing a milky droplet of combined moisture on the carpet and flipped me onto my knees. I barely got my balance on all fours before he was inside me again, yanking me back as he thrust forward, feeding me every inch of him, still throbbing from his orgasm.
“Come again.” His body bowed over mine, his hand going between my legs and finding my swollen clit. “Come while I’m balls deep inside you.”
Dirty words, hot erection, and illegal elixir all ensured I did exactly what he asked.
I screamed as I spit down the middle, fireworks spilling from my core, sparking and hissing around the room as I exploded.
My elbows buckled, sending my cheek to the carpet. His hands latched around my hipbones, holding my ass high, driving his cock over and over again.
He felt so good, so dominating, so furious.
He felt wild…exactly what I’d become.
Yes! Yes. Yes.
I went loose in his hold, allowing him to manhandle me, use me, fuck me as elixir reached the second stage…the freedom stage.
I let go entirely.
I was his.
No one else’s.
I was the goddess of fucking and I crackled with superpower.
* * * * *
I moaned with bruises and burning skin as he slipped inside me again.
A few hours had passed. Our bodies held no more secrets. We’d claimed every inch of each other in a carousel of fellatio, copulation, and kisses.
No denial of our fate. No argument of what we were here to do.
We were two animals who no longer had to vocalize our thoughts, we felt them.
I knew he loved me.
I knew he worshipped me.
We’d stepped out of the role-play and no longer mentioned his son.
We were just us.
Together.
Free.
Stripped to our core, removed from our humanity, coupling and rutting, chasing the same unattainable goal of blissful, bonding tranquillity.
By the time my body had splintered through copious orgasms and broken any remaining pieces I had left, I had no muscle, no bone, no more elixir-given power.
I was a puddle of pleasure.
Curled up in my fantasy’s arms.
Finally succumbing to another call of basic nature.
Sex had been my cruel, sadistic master.
Now…it was merciful sleep who owned me.
In some shadowy pocket of my heart…I would miss this guest. I would miss the way he idolized me. I would miss his incantations of love.
But…I missed another—someone who was real, even if he would never feel the same way.
I closed my eyes.
I cuddled closer.
And it was over.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I STOOD OVER HER.
She hadn’t woken when I’d carried her from Euphoria. She didn’t open her eyes when I placed her gently on the bed and removed the sensors from her fingers, eyes, and ears. Calvin had followed me, there of his own accord and not at my request.
He stood in the shadows, his judgement once again thick. He never took his gaze off me, seeing every tattered breath, every heavy stumble. His scorn poured acid onto my bleeding, open wounds.