Page 92 of Sin of Love
I’m his canvas to paint as he wishes.
I climax with a scream. Suddenly. Violently. He answers my body’s release with continued strokes of his tongue. My climax lingers impossibly long, and at the end, I slump bonelessly. Tears of catharsis seep from the corners of my eyes. The urge to laugh is equaled by the need to weep for days.
“You broke me,” I gasp, twitching away from his mouth.
He relents with a final kiss. “Not possible,” he answers, making quick work of the cuffs on my ankles.
He’s right. He didn’t break me—he glued the final loose pieces into place.
Slipping my hands from the cuffs over my head, I yank off the eye mask.
“We’re not done,” I growl.
Gideon’s grin is cutting, his eyes dark with lust. “Not by a long shot.”
He grabs my freed legs, yanking them around his hips, and presses himself against me, sliding his engorged cock over my clit and pelvis. Playing. Watching my arousal rekindle, my nipples pebbling and breath hitching.
“Please,” I say weakly. At last, a genuine supplication.
Gideon bends to the side, gaze veering beneath the lifted bench. “I think we might need one of these benches.”
“Oh, for the love—”
Chuckling, he straightens, slapping my inner thigh with his—
I jack onto my elbows, my mouth hanging open.
“Did you just swat me with your dick?”
Gideon throws his head back and laughs. And laughs some more. He’s still smiling when he eventually says, “Put me inside you, Deirdre. Slowly. I want to watch you swallow me up.”
My hands and instinct do the work, while Gideon and I stare at each other. No laughter now, but no darkness, either. Not once do our gazes disconnect as, inch by slow inch, he fills me. Only when he reaches my body’s limit does he lower above me, hands braced to either side of my head.
“Do you feel this?” he whispers against my mouth. A sweet roll of his hips has me gasping for air. “This is us. Our love. Nothing, and no one, can undo this. I’m never letting you go.”
Palming his face, I nip his lower lip. “Good, because you’re never getting rid of me. Now fuck me like your life depends on it, because I might kill you if you don’t.”
I’m watching for it, and so I see the shift in his eyes, the subtle tightening of his expression. I revel in his transition from intellect to instinct, from grace to wildness. His need takes over, commanding a furious rhythm from our bodies.
When our mingled sweat makes us slip on the bench, he lifts me up, steps back a few feet, and lowers to his heels on the ground. The new angle pulls a breathless moan from me, and then a pained gasp when his powerful legs drive his hips in furious thrusts. I hold on to his shoulders, my body shuddering, my spine electric under his hands.
Either I’m on the verge of another orgasm, or I’m going to pass out from sensory overload.
Nerves spark as he bites my earlobe. “This is the only time my love will ever hurt you. When I’m so deep I’m erasing where I end and you begin.”
My teeth sink into his shoulder as I fall apart. My cries are brazen, my body free, unashamed, as it milks pleasure from him.
“Fuck yes,” he hisses, his thrusts coming faster, harder.
My face against his neck, his sweat on my lips, I say, “Marry me, Gideon.”
He jerks in my arms, rhythm faltering as he climaxes with a shout. Balance lost, we fall sideways. Luckily it’s not a long way to the ground, and we collapse onto the luxurious rug.
Gideon rolls half atop me, panting. He grabs my face and kisses me hard.
“Did you really ask me to marry you?”
“Actually, I wasn’t—”
He kisses me again.
“Too late. No take backs. The answer is yes, mon bijou. My treasure. Of course I’ll marry you.”
Brushing back the errant, copper curl on his forehead, I finally let the joy in my heart lift my lips.
“As I was about to say, I wasn’t asking.”
