Page 188 of The Perfect Wrong

Proof positive that I’ve lost my mind.

But deep in my heart, it feels right, it feels sane, and I realize he’s remade me in his image from the day he took my V-card in Vegas.

I’m his—fully and irrevocably—and I want to be kept forever.

Chris doesn’t say a word.

He just pumps faster,faster,dragging me deeper into the flames.

His hands squeeze my ass so hard it hurts, lifting me off the granite and slamming me back down again. A few more bruises, but so what?

The pleasure is so worth it.

His chest bulges, his dragon twisting like a comet splitting the stars. His black ink becomes a heat flare consuming me.

My arms and legs are in flames.

My lungs are smoke.

Even my soul burns.

Then the most intense orgasm of my life rips me in half.

“Chris!” His name rockets out of my mouth before I’m fully overwhelmed.

Gone.

It takes all the energy in my body to squeeze out two last torn words.“Love. You.”

He throws me against the counter like a ragdoll, just as breathless as I am, balanced on knife’s edge.

My pussy clenches as his cock swells, a prelude to the coming inferno, his hot come flooding my depths.

“Cordelia, fuck,” he whispers, shoving his face against my neck.

He sucks my flesh into his mouth and bites so hard I want to scream but I’m just too breathless.

The shock makes my explosion ten times harder.

I come like it’s our last time.

A thousand futures cascade through my brain in the space of a breath, all of them with Chris.

Pleasure roars like rising flames, crackling and blinding and fusing me to him.

Before I’m deaf with bliss, I hear him grunting through the swirling chaos, and his seed heaves into my depths in thick ropes.

Now, we’re one.

Merged into a single pumping, twitching, groaning mess of two hearts and four limbs and one pulsing heartbeat.

Ecstasy spins like a tornado, stronger and wilder by the second, flinging me in every direction and they all end in the same white-hot bliss.

I can’t let up.

Can’t breathe.

Can’t even recognize who or what I am.

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