If she’ll let me make it better.
If she’ll stay…
“Yes,” she whispers, rocking into my next stroke with a whimper. “Yes, right there. Just like that.”
I roll my hips, grinding into the spot that makes her lashes flutter, slow and deep, drawing it out for both of us as long as I can. But eventually, need gets the better of me, and I can’t help moving faster, faster, until I’m snapping my hips into her and she’s urging me on with “almost there” sounds that are nearly as sexy as the way her flesh ripples as I give her everything.
Everything, everything…
Until she lets out a proper American scream as her pussy clutches around me. The waves squeeze harder, tighter, drenching my cock as she comes, and that’s all she wrote for me. Features twisting with the terrible beauty of it all, I cry out and shove deep, balls pulsing in the seam of her ass, I fill her again.
And it’s just as fucking hot as it was the first time.
Note to Self: Add ruined for condoms to the list…
After the final shivers have faded away, I roll to the side, and she rolls with me, draping herself across my chest with a happy sigh. I smooth a hand down her spine, kiss the crown of her head, absolutely certain now that this is it.
This is the Great Love my father swore found a man when he was ready. This is the reason none of my other relationships ever felt quite right.
There was always something missing because none of those women washer.
None was my Emily, my darling girl…
Long after her breath has grown slow and even, I lie awake, staring at the ceiling in the moonlight. I should sleep. We have big plans for tomorrow. But I can’t.
I’m too busy turning the problem of thousands of kilometers and an ocean over and over in my mind, too busy ponderingvisas and permits and all the legalities of building a life in another country with your favorite person, all of which suddenly seems bizarre.
How dare the government—anygovernment—think they have the right to stand in the way of two people in love? It’s ridiculous. Offensive. And I mean to write a strongly worded op ed about it for the Times…
As soon as I know for certain that Emily feels the same way.
Chapter Sixteen
EMILY
Iwake with a start, jolted into consciousness by my phone, which is currently humming on the nightstand like a vibrator turned to the “ultimate annihilation” setting.
Oh God, not again.
What is it this time?
I fumble for it blindly, still wrapped in Oliver’s arms. We shifted position sometime in the night, and his chest is currently warm and comforting against my back. All I want to do is throw my cell at the wall and go back to sleep, but notifications can be serious business these days, and the light filtering through the curtains is way too bright.
How long have we been out?
Fingers finally wrapping around my phone, I squint at the screen—9:47 AM.
Shit. We’ve slept late. Really late, which isn’t a surprise considering we were up until the wee hours of dawn having fantastic sex.
But still, it’s awfully early for?—
“Twenty-three notifications?” I hiss, my stomach balling into a knot.
What fresh hell have we stumbled into now? Did photos of us mauling each other in the solarium break on the gossip sites this morning? It was dark in there, yes, but—as IwarnedOliver—the walls were made of glass.
Why-oh-why did I think it was okay to get half undressed in front of an innocent puppy in a roommade of glass!
Blinking panicked eyes, I scroll to the text thread at the top, a series of a dozen or so messages from Maya.
