Page 77 of Protect Your Queen

“Faster,” I begged.

He obliged, his forehead burying into my neck. I placed my nose into his cheek, feeling the sharp hair of his stubble against my skin. He sped up his pace, but only by a little bit. So I begged again. “More, please!”

I was desperate, panting, needing and hoping for more. My mind was silent and wished for onlyone thing: more of him. More. More, and more! Greedy, hungry, starving. It was as if I had never felt any emotion in my life until that moment.

He pistoned inside me, and I gasped with every thrust. My nails dug into his skin so hard, I knew I left marks.

Then I felt it. The tension started in my feet, curling my toes as the rest of my body arched. My thighs quivered as sweat gathered on my brow. A scream started in my throat, then escaped my lips as the blackness of pleasure threatened to overtake me. I crested the wave, feeling the heaviness of ecstasy in every cell of my body.

When his groans matched my own, I knew he was close too. That he would join me at the other end, and I would never be able to escape. I would never be the same after this.

“Jestiny… I can’t hold back …” he groaned.

“I don’t want you to.”

“I shouldn’t… I … Fuck!” he released himself inside me. I felt it. The warmth of his come, dripping out of me, slipping down between my thighs. It spilled out, because it had nowhere else to go, and even that felt right as well.

“My sweet, darling Songbird,” he said, as he kissed my lips.

He rolled himself to the side, and I went with him until we faced each other. My thighs were unwilling to let him go. His arms wrapped around me so that I used his bicep like a pillow, and his other arm lay heavy over my waist.

I just needed to catch my breath.

I was so busy trying to regain my bearings, that I barely noticed how one of his thumbs massaged the base of my neck, while the other circled at my lower back.

“You don’t need to do all this,” I moaned into his arm, feeling the blush creep to my cheeks.

“Stop trying to seem low maintenance,” he lazily smiled as I nipped at the skin on his shoulder. “We both know you aren’t, and it’s not for you. It’s for me.”

He kept on massaging my back. Then he reached his arm over me, pulling the edge of the blanket over us like a taco.

“Oh? What are you getting out of it? Or are you saying I should be massaging you back?” I yawned. I couldn’t help it. I was so fucking comfortable.

“It lets me tell you that this wasn’t casual.” He leaned down and kissed my nose. “This was more than just physical, and I wasn’t just using you.”

It all seemed too good to be true. Surely, I would wake up and find that this was all just a dream.

“It's amazing how much your thumbs can say,” I said with a smile.

If this was a dream, then it was a good one. And I had lived so long in nightmares.

“Everything feels so significant with you,” I mumbled, as my eyes grew heavy. I was almost in the embrace of slumber when I heard his voice again. It was so faint and distant, I couldn’t be sure that it was real.

“Good. Because you are important.”

Chapter twenty-eight

Petite Mort

Chris

Iwoke up with her in my arms, nestled into my chest. I pulled her in tighter as she moaned and smiled in her sleep. The ocean waves were the right accompaniment for such perfection. So was the light of the sunrise that washed everything in gold.

Gold and orange hues against her tanned skin were the colors of my dreams. Warm, fragrant, and grounded in a way I hadn’t been in a long time.

“Hey.” She lazily smiled as she stretched.

“Hey, Songbird.”

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