Page 7 of Nighted

“Shit, baby. You’re perfect.” He clenched my thighs with his hands, willing me to move against his hips.

But I was in control. I raised up, lowering myself down again slowly.

“I love you, Jasper.” I let my body take over.

His gaze was foggy as he met mine. “I love you. Forever.”

I moved faster, allowing him to pump in and out of me in time. I needed this, to feel complete. Was the lust always going to be like this for us? A constant need, a craving so deep it couldn’t ever be satiated? My desire for him always kept me wanting more. Another touch, another kiss. Or like now, for him to drive impossibly deeper into me.

Our pace was frenzied, and I could feel him losing control. I picked up the tempo, feeling Jasper shake and quiver within me. My orgasm came on furiously, and I cried out, watching him shatter into me.

I sank onto his chest, our bodies still joined. “God, I love you, Ava. You are my every want, my every need,” Jasper whispered into my hair.

I sighed into his neck, letting our bond envelop me in a comfortable bubble. My energy was completely different than how I had felt when I first woke up. I just needed to figure out how to stay in this moment instead of getting inside my own head.

I propped myself up on my elbows. “There’s no way I’m sleeping anymore. I’m going to jump in the shower. Maybe I can still try to have a productive day.”

Jasper murmured his acknowledgment, barely awake. I left him sleeping with one last look at his perfect form.

I turned the shower up as hot as the tap would go, letting the heat fill the shower as I undressed. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at myself. I wish I knew what was happening to me, what was going to happen. I thought I knew who I was becoming, but this dream had left me uneasy about the future. What if I had made a mistake? Steam started to fill the bathroom, fogging up the mirror. I started to bring my hand to wipe it and stopped. The fog on the mirror looked like something was written on the mirror. Maybe Jasper had written me a note when he showered earlier. I smiled at the thought, letting the letters slowly emerge with the growing fog.

But my stomach sank as the phrase grew more readable on the cloudy glass. This wasn’t a love note. It was written clear as day in unknown handwriting.

The debt must be paid.

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