Page 63 of Tyson
"Move," she demanded, internal muscles clenching around me. "Please, Tyson, I need—"
I pulled back and slammed home again, setting a punishing pace that had the bed frame creaking. No more careful control, no more holding back. I fucked her like I'd wanted to since that first kiss in the storage room—deep, hard, claiming. Each thrust pushed her up the bed until she had to brace her hands against the headboard.
"Yes," she chanted, meeting me thrust for thrust. "Yes, like that, just like—oh god—"
I shifted angle slightly, remembering from earlier what made her lose her mind. When I found it, her whole body went rigid, a scream tearing from her throat. I hit that spot again, again, watching her face as pleasure overwhelmed her.
"Look at me," I commanded when her eyes started to flutter closed. "Want to see you when you come."
She forced her eyes open, hazel gone dark with pleasure. The vulnerability there, the trust even as I took her apart—it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
"That's my girl," I growled, feeling her start to tighten around me. "My perfect, brave girl. Let go for me."
She shattered with my name on her lips, body convulsing around me as her orgasm crashed over her. The sight of her coming undone, the feel of her clenching around my cock, the sound of my name torn from her throat—it was too much.
I followed her over, my release pulsing into her as spots danced in my vision. The pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain, every nerve ending firing at once. I'd never come so hard in my life, waves of it rolling through me until I collapsed against her, careful not to crush her with my weight.
We lay there panting, sweat cooling on our skin, surrounded by flickering candles and crushed rose petals. Her hands traced lazy patterns on my back, soothing over the scratches she'd left. When I could finally form words, I pressed a kiss to her temple.
"Was that wrecked enough for you?"
Her laugh was breathless but satisfied. "Sorry, Lena isn’t here right now. She’ll get back to you at a later date.”
We lay tangled in destroyed sheets, the dark silk twisted around our legs like evidence of a crime. The candles had burned lower, casting dancing shadows on the walls that made our skin look gilded. Lena's breathing had finally steadied against my chest, but her fingers kept tracing the scratches she'd left on my back, satisfaction radiating from every touch.
"You back yet?" I murmured against her hair, inhaling the mix of her shampoo and sex and roses.
"Mmm." She stretched against me, a full-body movement that made me aware of every place we touched. "Think you fucked my brain out. Words are hard." She tilted her head back to look at me, and the soft expression on her face made my chest tight. "Thank you for letting go. For trusting me enough to lose control."
I traced her cheekbone with my thumb, marveling at how she could go from demanding vixen to sweet vulnerability in seconds. "You make it easy to trust."
She hummed happily, then shifted to examine her hip. A bruise was already forming where I'd gripped too hard, purple blooming across pale skin like watercolor paint. Instead of upset, she looked pleased.
"Battle scars," she said, tracing the mark with satisfaction. "Physical proof that Tyson Monroe knows how to let loose."
"That doesn't hurt?"
"In the best way." She found another mark on her inner thigh, this one from my mouth. "I'm going to feel you for days. Every time I move, I'll remember exactly how you—"
"You're trying to get me hard again," I accused, catching her wandering hand.
"Is it working?" She grinned up at me, unrepentant.
"Everything you do works." I pressed a kiss to her forehead, then reality crept back in. "Speaking of which, we need to talk about this party."
She groaned, burying her face in my chest. "Do we have to? Can't we just stay in this sex bubble forever?"
"The bachelor party," I continued, ignoring her protests. "Thor wants it joint with Mia's bachelorette."
She stiffened against me, processing the implications. "Oh. That's . . . complicated."
"River cruise. Lots of alcohol." I pulled her closer, needing her solidly against me while I outlined the disaster waiting to happen. "Four hours on a boat where I can't escape if you decide to be bratty."
"I would never—" She paused, reconsidering. "Okay, I might.”
"I'm serious."
"I know." She sighed, some of the playfulness fading. "It's just... watching everyone else be open about their relationships while we hide. It's going to suck."
