Page 74 of Ruthless Creatures
Into my hair, he whispers, “I have an observation, too.”
“Which is?”
“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you when you come.”
My face flushes. I can’t tell if that feeling in my chest is pride or embarrassment, but I kind of like it.
“Ditto.”
He pauses. “Ditto? That’s my post-coital compliment?”
“Post-coital?We’re breaking out all the big words, I see.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m just a pretty face.”
He’s teasing. I love it when he teases me. It happens so infrequently. I say lightly, “Oh, no, I don’t. You have all kinds of impressive qualities besides your ravishing beauty.”
Another pause, this one longer.
I say, “You’re thinking the term ‘ravishing beauty’ doesn’t gel with your blistering machismo, am I right?”
“I mean, Iguessit’s flattering.”
He sounds disturbed. I stifle a laugh, trying to play serious. “Except?”
“Except it makes me sound like a debutante in a regency romance novel.”
It’s my turn to be disturbed. “How the hell do you know what a regency romance novel is?”
“I have eclectic taste in literature.”
Incredulous, I rear up onto an elbow and stare at him. He’s smiling at me lazily, looking smug.
I say flatly, “Youread romance.”
He pretends innocence, widening his eyes. “Why? Is that not something a ‘real’ man should do?”
I smack him on his brick wall of a pectoral muscle. “You’re pulling my leg.”
He goes from teasing to smoldering in the blink of an eye,growling, “I’d rather be pulling your hair as I fuck that delicious cunt of yours again.”
My god, the way he talks. The man is the Shakespeare of smut.
“You just did that.”
“Eons ago.”
“It was like twenty minutes.”
“Like I said. Eons.”
He grabs me and growls into my neck, making me squeal. Then he rolls on top of me, giving me all his substantial weight. I exhale with an audibleoof.
“You weigh a ton!”
“You love it.”
I think for a moment, feeling him all over me. He’s a huge, all-man blanket, surrounding me and keeping me safe. Smashing me, but also keeping me safe.
