Page 37 of Double Apex

I splay my legs and grind on his hand. His fingers stroke inside me, faultlessly rubbing my G-spot, and a deep, sweet ache spreads. With his thumb he lightly strums my clit. I’m getting so wet the bedspread is going to be wrecked.

“Are you fertile?” he asks. “If so, there are other ways I can please you.”

“No. I have the implant.” I’m impatient to feel his cock in me, and I arch against him. “Don’t slow it down, don’t slow it down. Keep the momentum, Legs. Let’s do this.”

With his free hand he captures my foot and presses a kiss to it. “Rapacious girl. You’re so used to giving me orders. Do you want to put on a headset and tell me what to do by radio as I fuck you?”

His fingers slide out of my pussy. He takes off his shirt and reaches for a pillow, tapping my hip to lift so he can place it beneath me. He kneels between my thighs and pulls me over his lap, reclined with my legs spread.

“You’re made for me inside,” he says, his eyes dark with lust.

Grasping himself, he slides back and forth through my lips, and I bring my knees up and wriggle closer, desperate to be filled. He pushes in a few inches, then withdraws, aiming thehead of his cock—now drenched in my wetness—at my clit, drawing slick circles around me. Two fingers of his other hand glide back into my pussy and I twitch in invitation.

“So deep inside, but so tight,” he murmurs. “You can take all of me.”

“I fucking need it. Don’t be a tease.”

“I’m going to watch you come first.” His fingers inside me are doing something that feels like a figure eight, slow and hypnotic. “You made it clear you want to use me.”

My eyes lock with his in alarm, but there’s no bitterness in his expression. He takes my hand and wraps it around his cock.

“So, use me,” he concludes. “I’m your toy.”

I’m stunned at how unashamed I am. We’re strangers in this respect, and something about that risk is thrilling. At the same time, I’m oddly at ease. Though the porthole windows are small, it’s broad daylight and we can see each other down to the last freckle and scar. My legs are smooth, but my girl bits are only trimmed—strawberry blond, lighter than the hair on my head.

“Your little pink cunt is perfect,” he tells me, as if he knows I’m self-conscious about not being shaved.

His delivery is surprisingly not lascivious, but falls somewhere between matter-of-fact and affectionate, and I’m pleasantly shocked he uses a word I never do.

I hold him in place and churn my hips to slide him against me. My clit is throbbing—it feels like every bit of blood in my body has converged between my legs. Cosmin’s gorgeouseyes are low lidded, studying me. His plump lips are parted, helpless in thrall, trapped by the sight of what I’m doing. I feel stunningly powerful.

“How are you so confident I’ll come?” I can’t help taunting him.

I’m keeping a poker face, but holy hell, I’m nearly there already. A mischievous part of me wonders if I can discreetly get myself off and pretend I didn’t, just to deny him the satisfaction of pleasing yet another woman in an endless parade.

Hand wedged between us, he adds another finger and sweeps my tight, wet walls, massaging and watching my face for feedback. “Because, draga mea, I know how responsive to input you are.”

My insides pulse as if trying to swallow his fingers, and I whimper, the peak creeping closer. My knees tremble as I scale the final approach, and I relax them.

“Ah, sweet one,” he says with a knowing smile. “Trying to hide it from me. That’s your plan, yes?” He opens his slippery, probing fingers, stretching me inside.

My breath is coming in tight little gasps now. “You don’t always win…”

It’s a relief finally to let myself enjoy how hot he is, and my gaze devours him. His shoulders are golden epaulets of lean muscle, the tilt of his head on that strong but elegant neck is arrogant in a way that turns my blood molten.

His tongue touches his lower lip and those stormy eyes narrow. “No. But something tells me I will today.”

His fingers withdraw and he splays them against the outsideof me, pressing into my pubic bones on either side of my labia. I gasp as a rushing feeling descends—not just the onset of orgasm, but something else.

What the actual fuck is that?It’s as if everything settles into place, like landing gear on an airplane.

My eyes go wide, searching Cosmin’s face. If there’s ever a time his cocky smile is welcome, this is bizarrely it—that smug tilt of his full lips sends me over the edge. Awhooshof something heavy and gorgeous, inevitable, with the gravity of a roller-coaster plunge, rides in on the wake of the regular orgasm I’d expected.

The gearhead nerd part of me dimly thinks of the word “turbocharged” and the overwhelmed woman part of me cries out, writhing against his hand as I drop back and fling my arms out to grab the bedspread.

Before the spasms pass, he stretches on top of me and fills me with his cock. I let out a surprised noise almost like a bark of laughter, a joyous “Ha!” and whip my arms around him, seizing his ass with greedy hands, forcing him closer.

“Yes—oh God,that… pleaseyesohmyfuckinggod,” cascades out of me, delirious. “Do it hard,” I order him. “I don’t want to feel anything butthis.” There’s no part of me that isn’t grabbing him like the last parachute in a plane going down.

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