I felt it, it was coming.
My mouth against his, I caught my breath, holding back and then I whispered, “Mace, I’m –”
“Kitten, let it go.”
I let it go.
I came, hard and overpowering, my arms tightened around him, my thighs pressed into his sides, his mouth absorbed my moans as it overwhelmed me.
No other way to describe it, it was beautiful. It had always been beautiful.
Always.
I took his final strokes, my orgasm stil tingling, my head turned to the side. His face was in my neck, his breathing was ragged. I turned my face to look at him, his head came up and his eyes caught mine. They were hot on me, hot and aroused and intense and I felt like I was the center of the entire effing universe.
Man, he had great eyes.
I slid my fingers into the back of his hair, lifted my head and pressed my open mouth against his, my other hand going to his jaw. The moment I touched his face, he lost control and groaned against my lips.
For some reason, that was even more beautiful.
We were stil both breathing heavily, coming down but he rol ed immediately after he was done, taking me with him, resting me on my unwounded side, my leg curved around his waist.
I pressed my face in his throat and held onto him tightly while his hands moved lightly across my back and I made intermittent post-Mace-made-orgasm “mms” in the back of my throat. I never did “the purr” for anyone else, but then no one had given me an earth shattering orgasm like Mace did.
We caught our breath and I tried to catch a thought and found I couldn’t. Al I wanted was for time to stop and me and Mace to be there, on Daisy’s pul out couch, locked together forever.
Before I had a chance to recover, a chance to remember this was wrong and more importantly, why, his hand slid down my side to my waist, over my hip and then gently pul ed my leg from around him. He moved away, sliding down the bed and coming up on his forearm.
I laid there, head on the bed, arms cocked and resting in front of me, staring unseeing as I felt his fingers careful y pul the dressing away from my wound. I kept my head to the bed but I tilted my chin down to watch him. My eyes focused on Mace and I watched as he looked at the wound, his jaw getting tight.
Then…
No joke.
He gently replaced the dressing, pressing down the tape at is edges.
His head bent to it.
And, light as a whisper, he kissed me there.
I stopped breathing.
Effing, effing, hel , hel , hell.
He came back to me, his arms moving around me, one hand sliding over my bottom, the other arm wrapping around my waist.
He looked me in the eyes and said softly, “I’m guessin’
this doesn’t mean I’ve won.”
My sanity instantly returned, just as quickly as it fled.
I retorted, al bitchy (seriously, in my defense, I mean, hel o, he broke my heart once already, temporary insanity was one thing but taking him back was just plain loco),
“This doesn’t mean anything. As far as I’m concerned, this didn’t even happen.”
For some unhinged reason this made him grin like he found this a fortunate turn of events.