Page 99 of Pack Me Up
“I can’t help it,” I say. “You’re…”
“What?”
“Perfect.”
She snorts, like that’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard, but she kisses me again anyway, hard enough to bruise. Her hands are rough, impatient, but her lips are soft and searching. She moves to my neck, sucking a line down to my pulse point, and I feel myself getting dizzy.
I grip her waist, thumbs tracing the indent of her spine. Her skin is damp, heated, and every inch alive with want. She rocks against me, her thigh pressed between mine, and I can feel how ready she is, how the bond has her on a knife-edge.
I pull her up, kiss her hard, and let my hands explore over her ribs and back down to her hips. She moans into my mouth, the sound desperate and open, and grinds harder against my leg.
Her hand drops to my jeans, fingers fumbling with the button. She’s shaking, just a little, but she doesn’t stop. She drags the zipper down and shoves the denim off my hips. We’re skin to skin now, the last layers gone, nothing between us but heat and air.
Her thigh slides between mine, slick and strong. She bites her own lip, eyes never leaving my face.
“Are you going to let me make love to you, songbird?” I ask.
She nods, lifting up on her knees before slowly lowering herself onto me.
The feeling is almost unbearable. She’s hot, wet, and the friction is perfect. I arch up, desperate for more, and she rides the movement, grinding slow and deep.
She kisses me, hard, her whole body vibrating. “I love you,” she says, and the words are a spell.
I repeat it, “I love you,” and it’s truer than anything I’ve ever said.
She moves faster, hips rolling, and I meet her every time. My hands grab her ass, pulling her down harder. She moans, a sharp, broken sound, and I feel myself getting close, the edge right there.
“Wait,” she says, breathless. She slows, rocking instead of thrusting, and reaches between us to touch herself. I watch, hypnotized, as her fingers circle, as her body tightens, as her breathing goes wild.
She’s so beautiful it hurts.
She comes first, shuddering and gasping my name. I follow, the heat rushing out of me in a wave. We collapse together, tangled, panting, every nerve still singing.
The nest is a ruin, blankets kicked aside, pillows on the floor, but it doesn’t matter. She’s draped over me, head on my chest, hair damp with sweat. I stroke her back, slow, tracing every bump of her spine.
She kisses my collarbone, softly, then lays her head down.
Her cheek is pressed to my chest, hair damp with sweat, one hand sprawled over my heart as if she’s afraid it might run away without her.
I should be tired, or spent, but as soon as I feel her move, a tiny grind of hips, a hitch in her breath, my cock twitches to attention, eager and shameless.
She stirs, mouth brushing my collarbone. Her eyelashes flick, and then her eyes find mine, dark and wild in the glow of the fairy lights.
I kiss her, softer than before, but the heat underneath is unmistakable. Her fingers trail down my chest, mapping every line, every flaw. She finds my cock, hard again and leaking, and strokes it once, slow and possessive.
“Insatiable,” she murmurs.
I groan. “How could I not be with my girl around?”
She laughs, and the sound goes straight to my head. “True,” she says, “but I’m not complaining.”
Now she’s above me, hair falling in my face, her hands pinning my wrists to the mattress. She lines herself up and sinks down in one motion, taking me inside again. The sensation is so intense I almost black out.
She rides me, slow and controlled, grinding her hips and watching my face the whole time. I can’t look away. Her body is art, every muscle alive, every movement calculated to destroy me. She leans forward, kisses the scar on my jaw, bites my earlobe, then whispers, “You look so sexy under me.”
I grip her hips, bruising, and thrust up to meet her. The sound of our bodies, skin on skin, the wet heat of her, the quiet slap as we move together, fills the nest. The mattress creaks, the fairy lights flicker, but there’s nothing in the universe except the two of us, locked in this perfect moment.
She comes again, and this time she doesn’t scream. She clenches so tight around me that I can’t hold back. I spill into her, body wracked with pleasure, every nerve lit up and burning.
