Page 105 of It Happened on a Sunday
Instead he slows things down until I feel like I’m going toimplode. I rip my hands from his grip, clutch at his head, his shoulders, try to pull him back up so I can have him where I really need him.
But he just laughs, biting at my inner thigh as he slides his hands around to cup my ass. “That’s it, corazón. Tell me again how you don’t want to hurt me.”
“Fuck you,” I gasp out as I pull him closer, closer, closer.
And then his mouth is on me again and all I can think is that I was born for this. Born for him.
And maybe I was, because nothing in my life has ever come close to feeling this good. This right.
This fucking perfect.
It’s a dangerous thought, one that any other time would have me taking about twelve steps back. But that’s impossible now, not just because my back is against the wall but because Sly isn’t letting up for an instant.
Pleasure moves from peaks and valleys to one long, continuous roll that weakens my knees and has my entire body trembling.
It goes on and on and on until I can barely breathe, let alone stand, and then it goes on some more. After minutes that seem like millennia of soft, pulsating pleasure, Sly eventually sits back on his heels and looks up at me.
“I’d do anything for you, Sloane. I’ll walk away if that’s what you want. All you ever have to do is tell me you don’t want this anymore. But we’re not doing this bullshit ever again, okay?” he says as his fingers slip inside me. “You don’t walk away to save me. You only walk away if you don’t want me anymore.”
He moves his hand, and my whole body convulses, electric shocks running through my veins.
“I was trying to protect you,” I cry out as the need continues to build and build inside me once again.Goddamn, this man will be my undoing.
“By breaking my fucking heart?”
His words twist me up on the inside, but I’m too far gone to give them the attention they deserve right now. How can I when every cell in my body is threatening to spontaneously combust?
“By getting myself as far away from you as I could,” I answer brokenly. “Your reputation—”
“Fuck my reputation. Fuck the media. And fuck anyone who thinks they get to tell me what my priorities are.Youare my priority right now, Sloane.”
He pushes deeper, and I see galaxies of light as I try to fight back the pleasure threatening to topple me over the edge again. But Sly’s saying important things, and I don’t want to miss any of them. “And until you tell me otherwise, we’re in this together, you and me. Understand?”
“I—” My voice breaks.
“Tell me,” he whispers, his mouth right up against me again. “Tell me you’re mine and that we’re in this together. But only if you believe it, too.”
“I’m yours,” I babble, my hands clutching at his shoulders, his hair, any part of him I can reach. “I’m yours and we’re in this together.”
“And I’m yours,” he says right before he sends me spinning off the highest cliff yet. The pleasure is so intense this time—so immense and overwhelming—that I burst into tears even as I drown in ecstasy.
Sly gathers me in his arms immediately, pulling me close as he whispers sweet nothings in my ear. I cling to him with every ounce of strength I have left as we both wait for my oversexed, overheated body to slowly calm down.
When I can finally breathe again, I whisper, “It’s not that I don’t want you. It’s that I don’t want you to have to go through what I have.”
He wipes the last vestiges of my tears away before whispering right back, “Corazón, what you’ve gone through is a travesty, andit’s going to stop. It may take me a while, but the misogyny and assholery directed at you is over.”
“That’s what I’m saying, Sly. It’s not your job to take bullets for me.” He gives me a look that sayswe’ll see about that, and I’m too tired to fight him on it. “We’re going to come back to this discussion when you haven’t wrung every ounce of energy I’ve got out of me right before I have to give a two-hour concert.”
“We can talk about it all you want, but my answer isn’t changing.” Though he does drop me gently on the couch before crossing to the fridge in the corner and pulling out an energy drink. “Here. You should probably drink this.”
“You think?” I ask sarcastically.
He smiles like a man who knows exactly how big his dick is. “Next time, you probably shouldn’t send me a text like that.”
“Next time, I’ll make sure you’re banned from the building,” I shoot back.
“You can try,” he replies. “But then who’s going to make you come until you cry?”
