Page 140 of Going Viral for Christmas
And when my orgasm tears through me, it’s not quiet or soft or clean.
It’s thunder.
It’s lightning.
It’s a scream ripped from somewhere deep in my soul.
Ichaseit.
My fingers claw into his hair, holding onto the back of his head so I can grind against his face, feral and gloriously focused. Every fractured part of me is fighting to be made whole through the heat of his mouth.
And Soren doesn’t let up. Hegroans. Like he’slivingfor this, wants every roll of my hips, each broken sound that spills out of me.
Unashamed, I ride it out on his face until I’m shaking so hard he has to grip my thighs tighter to keep me from sliding off the goddamn couch.
My back bows, a cry tears from my throat. My body shatters and spills over his mouth, wave after wave crashing. He holds me through every single pulse, twitch, and goddamn quake, staying with me, tongue still moving, mouth still claiming until I’m boneless and buzzing and barely human.
I finally breathe, collapse backward, and melt into the cushions as the world tilts and spins around me. I’m panting, flushed, drenched in sweat and sensation, and I don’t even care. I came so hard I forgot where I was.
“Fuck, Bells…I could live between your thighs and never need another thing.” Soren presses one last kiss to the center of me, sweet and respectful, a full stop on a sentence I’ll never forget.
I haven’t even caught my breath when I reach for him. I don’t think—Imove. Still floating, still shaky, but I want to touch him. Taste him. Give something back after he obliterated me like that.
But when my hand grazes the waistband of those ridiculous pajama pants, Soren seizes my wrist and shakes his head. “Not tonight.”
My face scrunches with confusion. “But?—”
“Tonight is aboutyou, Bells.”
There’s a fresh sting behind my eyes. I don’t know what to do with that kind of care. That kind ofrefusal.
He kisses the inside of my wrist. “Let me hold you, yeah?”
I nod, too overwhelmed to speak.
Soren reaches for the leggings I’d completely forgotten existed and helps guide them back over my legs and hips with more tenderness than should exist. Once he’s done, he settles onto the couch and pulls me into him, tucking me against his chest, protectively.
And here, curled into the warm strength of his arms, legs entwined, heart pounding in the afterglow—I let my eyes fall shut.
I wake up in my bed.
Not the couch.
I was wrapped in limbs and tangled in the man who kissed me into oblivion, fingered me into an orgasm so good it briefly rebooted my nervous system, then licked me as though I was his final meal and savored every morsel.
Now, I’m in my bed. Alone. Which, to be clear, isnotwhere I remember falling asleep.
The last thing I recall is that drugging kiss Soren gave me right after he made me see a whole other universe with two of his fingers.
And…
His words.
His tongue.
My body ached for something I’ve worked very hard at blocking out. Basically, Soren said,Hey, I’m going to annihilate your pussy. Hope that’s okay. And I’m not even going to take my clothes off to do it.
Apparently, I passed out after that. And “The Blade” tucked me in.
