Page 91 of Strings
He enters me gradually?deliciously, filling me up until I feel him in my core. I moan and close my eyes as he repeats the process once more.
He balances his body over mine and pumps himself in and out of me slowly. Too slow. I wrap my legs around his ass and pull him in. “I won’t break.”
“Well I might burst and I’m not ready to.”
I bite my lip and he lowers his head to suck it. I lick his lips with my tongue and he groans. He stops moving for a moment and kisses me passionately. This moment, as he kisses me while he’s buried inside me, is the most intimate moment I’ve ever had in my life.
His rhythm increases until I feel the build begin again. Oh hell. He pinches my nipple in his fingers and bends to suck my breast once more as he drives into me harder. My nails sink into his flesh, then I grip the sheets tightly, almost pulling them off the bed as he thrusts deeply inside me.
He gasps and pants and thrusts hard. It’s everything I need. His body shakes as he pumps into me and releases. Knowing I’m not done, he continues the pace, staring into my eyes with such smoldering intensity that it makes it that much hotter. Within seconds, I feel myself explode around him. I shrill as my body succumbs to him. He watches me shake and I sense he’s memorizing my face.
He lowers his face to my neck and breathes into my flesh as I wrap my arms around him and pull him close. What does someone say after something like this? The silence is too much, so I break it. “So, I guess you are a little attracted to me after all.” I snort-laugh and feel him smile against my chest.
“You think?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Ask me anything.” He lifts his head to look me in the eyes. He wipes the sweat from his brow and listens intently.
“This means something, right?”
His expression tells me everything I need to know, but he says the words anyway. “Yes, it absolutely does.” He strokes my face with the back of his hand. “This means it’s real.”
I don’t know the exact moment I fell for him, but I did. I’m not exactly sure when my wall came tumbling down, but I do know he had been chipping away at it since the moment I met him. With every word he said, every look he gave me, and every kindness he offered, Sebastian Corronov, principal violinist for the Los Angeles Symphony, not Russian mobster, changed my life and everything I wanted it to be.
This. Is. Real. And I’ll never be the same again.
Dreams are great until you wake up.
“Do I have to?” I ask as we sit in traffic on the way to his place. He wants to change before work.
Sebastian runs his fingers through his hair. “I guess you don’t have to, but it would mean a lot to me if you did. You knew a long time ago you’d have to meet my mother eventually. She’s been asking about you since Bella mentioned you existed.”
“Yes, well, that was different. First, I figured we would have broken up before that meeting ever took place. And second, back then when you said I’d have to meet her, I didn’t care if she liked me or not.”
“And now you do? Care, I mean?”
Tilting my head to the side, I stare blankly at him. He alternates looking at me then the road as he drives. How am I supposed to answer that after last night, and especially after this morning in the shower? Everything is different now. Is it okay to say I care now? I thought it was crystal clear last night, but this morning I started wondering if I heard what I wanted to hear, or what he actually said.
Does he still feel it too, or is it just me? My chest feels tight, so I rub it. I think I’m having a panic attack. I roll down the window. I need air, even if it’s cold. I face forward and ignore the question. I can see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye.
He presses a button on his door and my window closes. “I hope you care.”
“You do?” I ask, turning my head away from him. I don’t want him to see how nervous I am.
He takes my hand, and then I feel his lips on my knuckles. I can’t help but smile.
“A penny for your thoughts?” he asks.
“Like I told you before, my thoughts are expensive. Pennies won’t do.” I tap my finger to the side of my head. “These thoughts will require your checkbook.”
He huffs out a small laugh. “How many zeros?”
“How much will it take to buy your mother’s affection?”
He smiles and shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but she’s a soft little kitten.”
“More like a feral cat with claws that bites and growls.”
