Page 59 of Pretty Obsessed

I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to devolve into pleasure and sink into orgasm with him.

I wanted my entire existence to be this and him.

"Please," I said again, not sure what I asked for. I didn't need permission to come.

"Please what?" he asked like he read my mind.

"I want you to come inside me." It came out so decisive like it had been my design the whole time.

"It will be my pleasure, dearest, but only if you give me yours."

I nodded, kissing my agreement across his lips. More pleases laced with my moans. Need contorted in my body as it paused with my release. He licked the glee from my lips like it was worth its weight in gold.

Nothing existed but the two of us.

I'd never been closer to a human in my life.

And I never wanted it to end.

Twelve

Emory Ker

We changed after that. Or the dynamic between us did. We'd exchange a glance across the room, and he'd draw me forward with his eyes. The look was unmistakable. It called to me, ‘Come ride my dick,’ and I would mount him wherever he sat, nary a word exchanged.

I couldn't get enough.

His appetite for me was insatiable as well.

I tried to ignore anything beyond our connection, but it crept into my brain over and over. How could he be anything but like this all the time?

And I wrote. The blocks I'd had before falling away. As hard as words had been to pull out of my soul after the passing of my father, they seemed to flow easier with the company. The sex improved my writing instead of taking away from it. I didn't have to spend twelve hours staring at my laptop for a few hundred words, leaving us time for other indulgences.

Movies and hikes. I showed him spots from my childhood I'd never taken anyone else to. He, in exchange, narrated our adventures with stories of the band and his childhood. Those came with lots of pauses and hesitations, always with a sense that he left out the worst parts.

He carried a resolve to not be like his father and I had to assume his dad was an alcoholic though he never said. I suspected it was the reason he didn't drink or touch any substances and why he carried so much of Iris' pain.

"Do you have to leave?" I rested my chin on his chest, wrapped in nothing more than him and a blanket as we watched one of the movies I'd downloaded to my laptop before coming up here.

"If I didn't have to play shows in Japan, I wouldn't dream of it. But we have time.” His fingers lazily combed through my hair. "I'm considering showing up late for the jet to get in as many orgasms as I can. We'll keep it down to the wire. Make it exciting." He laughed and tipped my mouth up with a finger, pressing his lips to mine.

"I would apologize…but I'm not going to."

"Don't ever apologize for the things you do with your tongue."

"I'm not sorry then.” I dragged my teeth over my lower lip.

He kissed my forehead. It was unexpected, and I liked it. "When you finish, will you meet me someplace?"

"What do you mean?" I said.

He tightened his arms around me, not allowing for the space. "I mean what I said, dearest. Do I need to repeat myself?"

"I don't get it. You want me to fly out to see a show?" Confusion pulled in my forehead.

"Why is this hard to process?" He laughed. "Not a show. A few. Come stay days or weeks…"

My brow pulled more. "I thought this was—" What did I think this was? I didn't know.

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