None of it compared to having her eyes on me. That alone was enough to make precome drip steadily. But seeing the reaction I had on her drove me out of my damn mind, making me desperate to come. Yet I fought against it, not ready for it to be over.
We were the kinky version of Newton’s third law, our fucked-up connection pushing and pulling with each action and reaction.
I stroked quicker. Her chest heaved.
I got rougher. Her lips parted.
I got closer to the paradise my depraved angel led me to. And equal and opposite, she was left empty and wanting. Her sexy as fuck legs shifted, crossing and squeezing as she tried to ease the ache.
An ache I built.
And an ache I’d soothe over and over as soon as she broke.
My balls drew up and the pressure built until I exploded, the thick streams hitting the shower wall.
“It’s not polite to stare, Eden,” I muttered roughly as I turned to face her.
Jolting at my words, her gaze darted from my still hard cock. “I… uh… sorry,” she blurted before turning and literally running back into the room.
After rinsing off, I killed the water and stepped out, my mind on Eden and what kind of reaction she’d have. My money was on her feigning sleep. I dried off but didn’t bother to pull my boxers back on before heading to my room.
And freezing in the doorway.
Eden wasn’t feigning sleep. She wasn’t redressed and demanding to leave—another front runner in my list of possibilities.
Like she was conjured by the desperation of my fantasies, Eden was stretched on the bed, propped up on her elbows. She was still in her bra and panties, and her legs were closed, but she was almost my fantasy come to life.
Almost.
Because she may have been ready and willing, but she wasn’t open. And she wasn’t trusting. Her eyes were hooded and unfocused, but still guarded as she kept them locked on mine.
Flipping the light off, I climbed into bed and reached for her. My spent cock jumped when she did, twitching at the small gasp my touch elicited. Situating us on our sides, my front curved around her back, I kissed the top of her head. “You’re supposed to be asleep, Eden.”
“You were gone.”
I closed my eyes as her words scored through me, a beautiful pain. “Never,” I promised roughly.
Her body tightened at the one word before loosening. “Does this mean you’ll make me come now?”
“No.”
“Damn,” she whispered before yawning.
Curling my bottom arm up, I cupped her tit over her bra. My other arm stretched up, my hand resting on the base of her throat. Her pulse accelerated under my palm, thumping like wild. I didn’t move and neither did she. It took less than a minute for the beat to slow and her breathing to steady.
She fell asleep.
She fell asleep with my damn hand on her throat.
That hint of trust and vulnerability was enough to dig her deeper under my skin. She was in my veins—my drug of choice. My addiction.
The high I’d spend my life chasing but never getting enough of.
My depraved angel, promising me paradise before leading me to hell.
Mine.
*******