both better and worse in that I loved clit-adjacent contact but also wanted that crazy, blinding pressure back. "I'm thinking about turning you over and sliding into you from behind," he continued. "I'd shove a pillow under your hips and two fingers in your ass and I'd last three minutes at the most. You make such a mess of me, Zelda. Such a fucking mess."
He pressed on my belly though only enough to magnify the force of him moving in me. It nearly did me in, nearly broke the dam holding back the orgasm, the tears, the emotions throbbing behind my breastbone.
I could withhold the words but I couldn't stop a tear from spilling over my cheek which was more alarming than anything else because I didn't cry real, actual, sobby tears out of my eyes. What was the point? It never solved anything and no one who cared ever noticed.
"What's this?" Ash stroked a finger down my cheek. "I need to know if I'm hurting you before you cry, love."
"You're not hurting me." I tried to shake off his attention but our limbs were knotted together and he was deep enough inside me to steal my breath.
"Then what is it?"
"I'm a mess too. Okay?"
Our eyes met as he thrust into me again and my orgasm unfurled like he'd snapped his fingers and made it so. It was as though he'd taken control of my body, everything from my belly button down now operating under his command. I wasn't mad about it.
"Maybe you're not a mess at all," he whispered. "Maybe you're exactly as you're supposed to be."
I felt the unmistakable pulse of him filling the condom and the reflexive kick of his hips as the spasms twisted his spine, and I couldn't reach enough of him to give me what I wanted right now. I wanted to map every inch of his skin with my hands and taste all his favorite places and keep these pieces in a place that would last forever as mine and mine alone.
23
Zelda
Ash stifled a yawn as he asked, "What do I have this morning?"
We shuffled forward in the queue to order. I peered at the chalkboard menu while Ash checked his watch for the third time since wedging our way into this café and claiming a spot in line with the rest of the caffeine-starved commuters. "First up, a quick call with the people from Shadyside because they have questions about one piece of your proposal. My sense is they really just need some hand-holding, maybe a pep talk."
"I'm not the person anyone comes to for a pep talk," he said as he scrolled through emails on his phone. "They can't possibly want that from me."
"Then consider it a pep talk for you," I said. "I think they want you to confirm you've got this one tied up, nailed down, and all the other brutal metaphors involved with telling someone you've got them covered."
Ash dropped his hand to my lower back and pressed a kiss to my hair. "That, I can manage."
"Great because you're on with them at ten. After that, the CEO of Furylight has an hour scheduled with you though I don't know the details on that one."
"It's a standing meeting. He enjoys picking up the phone for an info-dump of his plans once a quarter and I enjoy billing him for a full hour."
I blinked at the menu again. Too many good choices. What did I want, what did I want? "Then you have a call with the team from Pantheon Partners. They're growing and will be hiring hourly and salaried staff—"
"Right, the payroll tax conversation," he said, mostly to himself. "That will be quick and entertaining. It's always fun to explain taxation to finance guys. It's like they blew off the entirety of their accounting coursework when they went to B-school to go golfing."
We stepped up to the counter and ordered the same breakfast sandwiches and coffees we'd ordered every morning. Since food didn't always imitate life, I was the sausage, egg, and cheese traditionalist where Ash was the wild child with spinach, mushrooms, peppers, and feta accompanying his eggs.
"If all goes according to plan, we'll be closed up by lunchtime," I said as we waited near the pickup counter. It was a good spot to ogle sweet rolls and some voluptuous muffins, neither of which I'd sampled yet but I had big plans for next week. "Let the wedding weekend begin."
"Closed, yes," he replied. "I have an hour