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Cameron Chelsea M. - Back To Back Back To Back

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Фантастика и фэнтези

Детективы и триллеры

Проза

Любовные романы

Приключения

Детские

Поэзия и драматургия

Старинная литература

Научно-образовательная

Компьютеры и интернет

Справочная литература

Документальная литература

Религия и духовность

Юмор

Дом и семья

Деловая литература

Жанр не определен

Техника

Прочее

Драматургия

Фольклор

Военное дело

Последние комментарии
оксана2018-11-27
Вообще, я больше люблю новинки литератур
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Professor2018-11-27
Очень понравилась книга. Рекомендую!
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Vera.Li2016-02-21
Миленько и простенько, без всяких интриг
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ст.ст.2018-05-15
 И что это было?
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Наталья222018-11-27
Сюжет захватывающий. Все-таки читать кни
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Back To Back - Cameron Chelsea M. - Страница 11


11
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“Your place. Now,” he growls at me, his voice tight with need. My body throbs in response. I need him. Immediately.

“Where’s your car?” I ask, but his only answer is to start dragging me back down the street. I’m seriously hoping he’s towing me in the direction of his car. Otherwise, I’m going to jump him in the middle of the street in broad daylight.

Finally, I see the BMW and breathe a sigh of relief. He yanks the door open and nearly throws me in. I scramble and he gets behind the wheel, cursing at the traffic that won’t let him in. He creeps out and a Good Samaritan pauses to let him pull out.

Sylas drives as fast as he possibly can to my place and it must be fate because there’s a space right near my front door. He parks and is out of the car before I can unclick my seatbelt. This time I’m the one leading him and somehow get the door open, even with him pressing against my back and breathing in my ear. The second the door is closed, we attack each other.

Clothes hit the floor and I know we’re not going to even make it to the living room couch. I don’t remember how I got naked, but I am and Sylas lifts me up as I wrap my legs around his waist. His hands dig into my ass, his tongue ravages my mouth and his eyes burn into mine.

There is no preamble. No warm-up.

Before I know it’s happened, he’s thrusting into me, my back banging up against the door. I let out a loud cry as he pulls out and slams into me again. This is another one of our encounters that’s going to leave bruises.

The door hitting my newly healing tattoo adds a little spice of pain, but I don’t tell him to stop. Even if he could.

Sylas is determined. He’s going to have me and I’m going to let him. I hold on for my life as he pounds into me with everything he’s got. This is both a reunion and a statement.

My climax comes so hard and so fast, I end up biting into his collarbone as I come, shattering into brilliant pieces all around him. He moves faster and faster until I hear him groan and feel him come inside me.

Shit. No condom again.

We’re both trembling and dripping with sweat. My back is on fire and my limbs are made of rubber. Sylas ducks his head and leans it on my neck and sets me down slowly. I keep my arms around his neck since I’m pretty sure my legs wouldn’t support me right now.

His cum runs down my leg, but neither of us moves.

“Do you love me?” he asks, his voice raspy. My head snaps up, looking into his blue eyes.

“What?” I must have heard him wrong.

“Do you love me?” I open my mouth to answer, but I can’t. I’ve promised to be honest with him. I definitely cannot tell him that I love him. That it was real when I said it. Not part of our game. I didn’t mean for it to happen.

I’m about to break the first new promise I made to him.

“I don’t know,” I say, lying through my teeth.

 

Six

 

I can’t tell if he believes me or not, but he walks backward, taking me with him as we make our way to the couch. We’re lucky neither of us trips over our discarded clothing.

He sets me down on the couch and then goes to grab his pants, sliding them on without his boxer briefs before grabbing my clothes and handing them to me. I take them and go to the bathroom to clean myself up before I get dressed again.

I put my panties, jeans and shirt on, but leave the bra off.

He sits down next to me again, and props his elbows on his knees as he leans forward. I mirror his stance.

“What are you thinking about?” He’s in one of his deep silences. The kind that means he’s far away and it’ll be a job to bring him back to me.

He turns his head slowly.

“I don’t know what to do with you, Saige. I really don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, but I have no idea why I’m apologizing.

He lets out a long breath.

“But I can’t seem to get you out of my head. I think about you all the time. You drive me crazy.” Then he knows the feeling.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he says again, shaking his head.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” I say and he finally cracks a smile.

I lean over and bump his shoulder with mine. He does the same and soon we’re attacking each other in a different way. Sylas is tickling me into submission.

“Stop! Sylas, stop!” I say, laughing so hard I can’t breathe.

“Never,” he says, somehow finding my very worst spots right under my ribs and on the bottoms of my feet. He lets up when I’m completely out of breath.

“I missed you,” he says.

“You saw me yesterday,” I say.

“I know. It doesn’t mean I can’t miss you.”

“You’re right,” I say. He lowers his body onto mine. I can’t help but smile up at him. It’s impossible not to smile when he’s like this. Sylas can be dark sometimes, and I love that, but when he’s fun and playful is just as addictive. Maybe it’s just… Sylas.

“I really missed you, Saige,” he says, brushing my hair back from my face.

Even though we just fucked up against the door, he takes me again, slowly this time. I don’t bother asking about the condom. It’s sort of a moot point now. I have an IUD and I know he gets tested regularly. I know because I’ve seen his medical records. One of the perks of being my father’s daughter.

He goes so slow that I feel each and every inch of him as he penetrates me. This is also a statement. That he wants me, and not just for sex. Because this isn’t fucking. It’s so much more than a penis entering a vagina. So much more than two people sweating together and sharing a moment.

I love him so much that it makes me want to cry again.

I climax again and throw my head back. Just as he follows me he dips his head to my neck and growls something. I think he said “I love you” but I’m not sure.

I’m not really sure about anything anymore.

Sylas doesn’t stay the night with me. A strange silence settles over us after we finish the second time and I know that this time he’s too far-gone in his head for me to bring back.

“I’m going to go,” he says after he gets completely dressed again. I’m still lying naked on the couch. I’m also mourning the loss of his nudity. I wish I could keep a naked version of him in my closet and pull him out to just to stare at whenever I want.

“Okay,” I say, not getting up. I’m satiated and boneless, but empty at the same time.

He looks down at me as if he’s not sure how exactly to proceed. A kiss? A hug? A pat on the head?

He finally decides on just a nod and then he’s out the door.

I lay there on the couch for a while as my body cools from his touch. I know I’ve got bruises and marks and he definitely does. We can’t seem to be together without leaving something behind on the other person.

I finally get up and take a shower, even though I don’t want to. I like having the smell of him on my skin.

My tattoo burns in the hot water, but I don’t care. I should have asked Sylas to rub some lotion on it, since it’s nearly impossible for me to reach the area myself.

It’s early still, but I need to sleep. I crawl into bed straight from my shower, naked and wet. I roll myself in the blankets and try to think about anything but Sylas and how in the hell he’s ever going to trust me.

I’m back to my regular routine the next day. Well, as regular as my routine ever is. While I’ve been working on Sylas, my time has been spent in school and basically waiting around on him. Popping into his “work” for lunch, texting him, following his movements. It’s been a nice break from working for Dad. He’d have me do everything from surveillance to hacking to a little B and E. It took me a while to figure out that other little girls didn’t practice safe cracking with their daddies on the weekends.