Page 142 of Ruthless Creatures
I say with utter conviction, “I’d impale whole armies on my sword if you asked me to.”
She wrinkles her nose. “That won’t be necessary.” After a pause: “Do you even have a sword?”
“Many, but they all fire bullets.”
“Ah. Gotcha.”
We smile at each other.
Heaven itself couldn’t be more fucking perfect than this.
She stretches against me like a cat, arching her back, all her muscles tensing, then settles back with a happy sigh, burrowing closer to my chest.
I bury my face in her hair and sniff like some kind of derelict addict.
Her laugh is soft and sweet. “I need to send a thank-you note to the company that makes my shampoo.”
“It’s not your shampoo that smells so good,” I say, my voice husky. “It’s you. You’re delicious.” I inhale against her neck. “The smell of your skin makes me high.”
She slides a hand up my neck and sinks her fingers into my hair, still softly laughing. “You’ve been listening to too many love songs.”
Then we’re kissing. Slow, soft kisses that linger, growing hot.
She presses her breasts against my chest. I sink my fingers into the curve of her hip and pull her closer.
“Are you sore?” I move my hand so now I’m fondling her ass cheeks.
“Yes. Everywhere. I love it.”
I exhale, blood rushing to my dick. I whisper, “You’re so fucking sweet, baby. You came so hard for me.”
She teases, “As I recall, you had a pretty intense orgasm yourself.”
“I saw stars.”
“You roared like a lion.”
“I did. That’s what you make me feel like. A lion. I’m your besotted lion, following you around on all fours.”
“Besotted. You’ve been googling love words. I like.”
Kissing her neck, I run my open hand all over her ass, thigh, hip, and back, memorizing every curve. Her skin is soft and smooth, warm and pliant.
I want to sink my teeth into every inch of it.
She whispers, “You’re growling, Simba.”
I playfully bite her neck. My dick is throbbing.
But I’m already late.
When I sigh against her throat, she knows.
“Oh no. So soon?”
The disappointment in her voice drives a stake through my heart. I roll to my back and pull her on top of me, arranging her as I love to do, so we’re chest to chest, belly to belly, thighs on top of thighs.
My chest aching, I say, “I won’t be able to come back for a while.”
