He obliges, fitting a second finger to my entrance and thrusting deep inside. That wasn’t exactly what I meant, and I’m a little bit shocked because his fingers are thick and long, and I am so full, but it’s utterly incredible. He uses his tongue in time with those thrusts, magnifying every movement into something that makes my heart pound out of my chest. I can already feel myself tightening, every muscle in my body becoming hard and rigid, and I can feel the pleasure hovering on the edges. White-hot, so freaking hot, erupting volcano hot.
I eagerly take what he’s giving, participating with every ounce of my ability. I buck shamelessly, slamming into Tor’s face and the table. He thrusts his fingers into me over and over again while he laps my clit with his tongue, swirling, dipping, tasting, and thrusting in a rhythm that makes me want to come apart in ways I’ve never come before. I reach for it, taking and riding with him until I come apart with a scream.
I’m usually very quiet, but not this time. This time, I just let loose because it’s been five long years. This climax is everything, and I let the hot waves come harder, faster, and more, one on top of the other. I let them sweep over me, shattering and breaking me. But Toren doesn’t stop. He keeps going and giving, and my hips continue bucking eagerly, taking and wanting more, always more. More of him—a man I could never fully let go of who has my heart, trust, and life again—more unicorns, rainbows, and all things glittery flashing through my brain, and more stars, waves, and this crazy, crazy bliss that won’t stop rippling and ripping through me.
Suddenly, there’s a mighty groan, and initially, I think it comes from Toren, at which I have to say, I’m impressed. And then I realize it’s not Tor at all, but the table, which lets out another groan and a creak. Next is a shriek, which comes from me because the world tilts, and things cave in. Toren’s arms are there, barely, tugging me forward, but all of a sudden, we’re both caught in the middle of my smashed-up kitchen table.
I look around me, taking it in, totally stunned. The tabletop has two parts, and there was a leaf decoration that expanded in the middle. It gave way there. The splintering and cracking sound was the legs of the table busting apart. Now, two of them sit at odd angles. I nearly fell through the crack in the table when it opened, and it’s now gaping at me like a gapped-toothed grin.
“Oh. Holy gravy and biscuits,” I whisper.
Toren stares at me, stares at the table, and then he laughs. He throws his head back, and the sound is thunderous and musical. “I’ll get you another one,” he promises. “One with steel or titanium legs. Legs that won’t give out again. We definitely need a strong table for the future.”
The. Future.
Gahhh.
Sitting in a pile of broken table pieces, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything sexier. The. Future.
The next time I go to the park with Milo, I’m going to have to be careful what I say to Rose, or she’s going to tell me, while she’s feeding all the birds, that she told me so. She told me it would be my life that would be most at risk. My heart, my world. And she was right. Good gravy, she was so, so right. She knew. I suppose I’m easy to read, or maybe she’s just old and wise and knows more about these things than I ever will because she’s seen it all before. I think about the curse again, and I want to ask Toren, but I don’t because it doesn’t feel like the right time. Honestly, I’m not so worried about it anymore. If this is being cursed, then it’s not the worst thing in the world. In fact, it might even be the best thing.
CHAPTER 16
Toren
Luna is getting misty-eyed, and I feel like I’ve done something wrong. It takes me a few seconds to realize she’s not getting teary about the table but about what I just said. Her tears are good tears.
“Can I take you to your bedroom?” I ask thickly. I’m so far from done with her that it’s not even funny.
Hmm, perhaps it’s a little bit funny because it might be hilarious for her to watch the last shards of my self-control break away completely. Even if that is funny, I want her to be the one to watch it, to have it. To have these imperfect moments and the imperfect bits of me, to make them into something beautiful and lasting.
“I don’t know if my bed is that much stronger. We might have a repeat performance in there.”