Page 110 of Touch

Andrew hisses her name, and Love shouts his, the sounds echoing through the trees. His cock expands, grows tougher. The hot flesh twitches within her folds, on the brink of spilling. And how she wants that, to extract every drop of release.

Motivated, Love slams her ass into him, claiming his cock, his soul, his heart.

“Look at me,” she pants. “See me.”

“I do,” he vows to her reflection. “I see you.”

He does. He always has.

Pleasure spirals up her limbs and coils between her thighs. Andrew catches on and thrusts even faster, deeper still, his cock fitting her cunt so well. Once more, twice more. Then Love’s consciousness breaks apart, exploding like something atomic, an effusion of heat rupturing from her core. She pauses, her hips curling into his, their movements stalling.

Love sobs aloud. Her pussy squeezes Andrew to the hilt, blood rushing to her scalp and toes, the crescendo beyond her wildest imaginings. Cold and heat. Shivers and sweat. The elements collide, invigorating Love’s flesh, her cunt pouring fire through her blood. Two thousand eight hundred years of being an immortal, yet she has never felt this alive.

She comes around Andrew, convulsing and crying herself raw. Andrew bows forward, his features glinting in the starlight, and a bellow tears from his lungs. His cock throbs, coming inside her, warmth pouring through.

On this frozen surface, they make each other come. Through the icy reflection, they watch each other fall from that precipice.

When the quakes subside, her joints melt, and her knees give. Still palming one breast, he hunches over and breaks Love’s fall, planting his other hand on the pond to keep them level. Her ass rests against his cock, which is still poised within her, the clamp of her body sealing him there. Condensation glazes their skin, while veils of frost drift from their mouths. They fight to regain their breathing, thick moans rushing into the air, Andrew’s mouth against her shoulder blade, where a wing scar resides.

“So,” Love gasps. “This is what it’s like to fuck after a near-death experience.”

Andrew hums. “Who says we’re done?”

In seconds, they’re upright, their bodies separating. Love spins to face him, Andrew yanks her forward, and she hurls herself toward those possessive arms. Except the surface overtakes their balance, and they slip onto the blanket in fits of husky laughter.

Andrew wants to flip her over, but Love snatches his wrist and crawls with him across the ice, both of them occasionally sliding. Reaching the pond’s edge, they swallow their chuckles and launch at one another, the need primal and far from satiated.

Love scrambles up Andrew’s torso. At the same time, he hauls her off the ground, rising to his full height and hefting Love against him. Her ankles hook around the swells of his ass, and she seizes Andrew’s mouth, her tongue swatting his while he stalks from the pond and makes haste to the cottage.

Kicking open the door, then punting it shut with his heel, Andrew makes a carnal noise and rams Love against the nearest glass wall. The fire has replenished itself, the interior balmy and flooded in muted light.

Pinned to the translucent facade and linked around Andrew, Love bites his throat, relishing his grunt. She’s about to sample him again when he nestles her face, lifting it to his own. Tilting her head, she marvels at the boundless expression dominating his countenance.

She opens her mouth to speak, but the words tangle on a moan as he probes her with his cock. Patiently, he rocks his hips. Her thighs shake around the span of his waist, their hips gyrating, her weight bobbing.

Slow. Steady.

In. Out. In. Out.

Now it’s nothing but heat, their flesh covered in a layer of perspiration, and her pussy astride his cock. Love whimpers, scratches her fingernails through his hair, and gazes down at him. When she does, he alters the pace, plying her with short, shallow jabs until she’s crying out again.

Jutting her hips, she rides his cock, its glistening length retreating and entering. Andrew sucks on her lower lip, devours the side of her neck, and licks the peaks of her nipples. All the while, he pitches into her with tender swats of his waist.

Then he brushes her mouth with his and whispers. “I love you.” And again. “I love you.” And again. “I love you.” He punctuates every thrust of his cock with these words, which gain momentum and volume. “I love you. I love you. I fucking love you.”

Love weeps, her heart pounding with his. The same sentiment teeters on the ledge of her tongue, but Andrew claims the words before they’re out. His lips clamp to hers, tasting her pleasure, her passion, her proclamation.

He increases the velocity, thrashing his cock from head to base, drenching Love’s cunt, putting his soul into the motions. In cadence, she bounds atop his lunging waist. And for the second time, they come around one another, their shouts gaining strength. She claws through his roots and holds on until it’s safe to let go.

39

“I would have destroyed those rulers,” Andrew vows, his tone rough from sex and murderous. “For what they did to you, I would have massacred them one by one.”

“As would have I, for what they did to you,” Love confides, glaring at him while splayed atop his torso in front of the fire. “I thought you’d died out in that blizzard. It was careless to—”

“Don’t expect me to apologize. I wanted you alive. Anything else was a dealbreaker.” Andrew glides a solitary finger over the curves of her ass. “Tell me.”

“You collapsed in the snow.” Love slaps his chest. “What the devil were you thinking?”

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