Grave Phantoms
Page 66

 Jenn Bennett

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After he slid two fingers inside her, it didn’t take long. She’d worried she couldn’t let herself go in front of him, but somewhere along the way, between his murmurings against her cheek—You’re so soft here. Make that sound again for me. Like this? Tell me you want me—her hips arched off the mattress and she knew she was close.
He knew, too, and when her body began shaking, he moved between her legs. Hovering over her, his weight on one arm near her head, he continued touching her and whispered, “Do you want to know a secret? I was already in love with you the afternoon I took you to the redwoods.” And with that, he replaced his fingers with his cock, and drove himself into her in one unrelenting push.
One pump of his hips and she lost her breath. Two, and she regained it, along with her voice, which was making the most bestial noises she could possibly fathom and she didn’t-care-couldn’t-stop. Three, and her mind emptied.
The orgasm ebbed and flowed, lifting her out of her body and pulling her back down again, pleasure and relief in equal measure. When the last pulses of it slowed, she wanted to wrap her legs around his and pull him down under, but he wasn’t finished with her.
His body bowed above hers, every muscle taut and tightened like a finely tuned cello. Dark hair hung over his eyes and tickled her face when he dipped his head to taste her lips. “Hold on to my arms,” he said, and she obeyed, wrapping her hands around his stony biceps. He lifted himself higher and tucked his chin to his chest, staring between them to the place where they were joined. To where he pinioned her, pushing into her, slow and steady, hips like a machine that showed no signs of tiring. Dark curls, blond curls. The root of him glistening with her wetness. He pulled out completely and then slid back inside with a shudder.
“Look at us,” he whispered. “We are beautiful.”
His words were a match combusting into fire as they struck over her skin. And she soon felt herself involuntarily clutching around him a second time. How could that be?
“Again,” Bo ordered, groaning with pleasure as his rhythm grew fiercer, steadfast, faster. “And this time, we’ll come together.”
She felt her climax gathering speed. She breathed in the scents of their bodies. And when his arms shook and his head tilted back, she watched Bo’s face straining (mouth open, eyes squeezed shut, dark brows lifted high at the inner corners), and crashed along with him.

Her heart beat slow and forceful, and when he pulled her closer, she felt his own heart pounding in the same unhurried way. The pleasure he’d given her still pulsed in her blood. She was slack, spent, and felt a bone-deep satisfaction of both body and mind. He shifted onto his back and drew her along with him until she was sprawled across him, limbs tangled. She fitted her cheek in the hollow at the center of his chest, sighing heavily.
“Still alive?” he whispered into her hair with an earthy sound that was almost a chuckle.
“Mm . . . not sure.” Her voice was broken and sleepy. “I feel like I’ve been drugged from my knees to my stomach.”
This time he did chuckle, and she felt it through his chest. “When have you ever been drugged?”
“I haven’t, but I imagine this is what it would be like. I’m all warm and loose. It feels amazing. How long does this last?”
The fingers that were trailing through her hair, lazily combing it back over one ear, stilled for a moment. “Are you saying that this is a novelty?”
“Well, it’s a hell of a lot different from doing it yourself,” she said.
“I meant—”
“Yes, yes. I know what you meant. This is the first time that’s happened for me with anyone else, and was . . . marvelous.” She sounded inane and a little drunk, but she didn’t care. Nothing felt this good. Nothing at all.
She felt his smile against her hair.
“Don’t get cocky,” she said, curling her toes around his feet.
“Too late.” He forced her to look up at his face and squinted down at her with heavy-lidded eyes. His smile was dazzling. “You were loud.”
“Oh God.” She tried to hide her face, but he wouldn’t let her.
“I knew you would be—when I imagined us together. I hoped you would be.” His hand smoothed over the skin down her back.
“You were loud, too,” she pointed out. Almost alarmingly so.
“Mmm-hmm. You made me feel wild. Are you proud? You should be.”
“Not proud, no. Just happy.“ She sighed with pleasure.
His bare foot danced with hers, toes tracing the curve of her arch and over her heel, and then hooked around her ankle to pull her leg closer. “And if I’m being honest, I’m usually dressed and gone by this time, so this is a little new for me, too.”
She twined her leg harder around his. “You aren’t leaving, and we’re not going home tonight.”
“You couldn’t make me if you wanted to. I would tie you to the bed.”
“You would?” She didn’t mean to sound so eager, but the image of it raced through her head and made her chest warm.
“I still might.” He shifted onto his side and rolled her with him, capturing both of her forearms together at the small of her back. He pinioned her and smacked her buttocks with his free hand.
She squealed and broke free, rubbing her stinging cheek. “O-ow,” she complained, laughing. A grin split his handsome face as he tried to spank her again, and when she was too fast to catch, he wrestled her facedown on the bed and made her whoop with laughter when he threatened to tickle her. “Don’t do it,” she said into the bedcover, mildly hysterical and breathing heavy. “Do not do it, Bo Yeung.”