Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
“You,” she sobs. Her eyes are closed tight, and her body is quivering with an impending orgasm. “I just need you.”
I cover her clit with the tip of my tentacle . . . positioning one of the suckers right where she needs me as I slam her down my length. The effect is instantaneous. Catalina cries out as she cums, her pussy clamping around my cock.
Oh fuck. Oh goddess. Oh—
I don’t remember reaching for her. One moment I’m braced on the rock and controlling the whole encounter. The next I have my arms around her and I’m claiming her mouth in a searing kiss that feels like she is branding me.
It doesn’t matter. We’ve gone too far to stop now. I kiss her harder as my orgasm crests. It surges . . . and then keeps going. I cling to Catalina, holding her tight as my body takes over, thrusting into her again and again. I’m vaguely aware of her now-free arms wrapped around me, her ankles locking at the small of my back, but mostly lost in the sea of pleasure.
In the end, it’s everything I can do to ensure we slump onto my tentacles instead of the cold rock floor. Distantly some part of my brain is telling me that now’s the time to move, but the thought can’t quite take root.
Catalina shivers. “That was . . .”
“Yes.”
“You were . . .”
“I know.” I kiss her temple and pull her close. My cock is still half-hard inside her, but I’m not ready to withdraw. Not even when the stimulation borders on pain. “Thank you for trusting me.”
“Of course.” She says it like I’ve done a single thing to earn her trust.
Guilt rises in a slow wave. I didn’t intend to make her feel unwanted, but as we discussed earlier, intent matters less than action. Than results. I did it in ignorance before, but I don’t have that excuse now.
I like this woman. This kindred soul. I don’t know what that means. I don’t know how to deal with my heart, suddenly too present in my chest.
It’s not like how things were with Brant—not in any way, shape, or form—but how long can I deny there’s something here between Catalina and me? I don’t know what to think, what to feel. Maybe that’s why I speak my thoughts aloud. “I don’t want to forget him.”
To her credit, Catalina instantly understands. She shifts, easing off my cock, but doesn’t move far. “No one is asking you to forget him.” She clears her throat. “Or replace him. I know I could never do that, and I don’t want to. It feels icky. You loved him very deeply. You still love him.”
Yes, but . . . I don’t like how quick she is to act as if she could never occupy that space in someone’s life. In . . . my life.
Too fast. I’m moving far too fast with this, but it’s as if by crossing this threshold with Catalina, I have broken free of the calcification that overtook my life with Brant’s death. At least in part.
She won’t thank me for saying as much, though.
“Catalina.” I pull her into my arms again and shift so I’m lying on my back with her sprawled on my chest. “You are a gift beyond measure.”
16
CATALINA
My first instinct is to ask Thane if he’s drunk. A gift beyond measure? Don’t make me laugh. My whole life has proved otherwise. People don’t toss away priceless gifts. They cherish them. They hold them close . . . kind of like he’s doing right now.
I almost push away. I actually press my hands to his broad chest and tense to do it. But I’m so incredibly tired. Tired of running from the disappointment that flavors the air of every room I walk into. Tired of trying and failing. Even tired of the hopelessness that comes with no longer trying at all.
My throat goes tight, and I swallow several times. I will not cry all over him as if he didn’t just give me the best sex of my life. My body still sings with pleasure from how hard I came. I’ll have to check later, but I’m pretty sure his tentacle-sucker things left marks on my body. I can barely wait to lie alone in my bed and trace my fingertips over them, reliving every moment of this encounter in excruciating detail.
“Are you in any pain?” Thane runs a hand down my spine, a physical reminder that this encounter isn’t over yet. I start to sit up, and his hand splays across my back as if he might hold me to him, but he releases me almost as soon as he tenses.
“No, I’m good.” I’m sore, but it’s a delicious kind of soreness.
“There is a healing cream the bargainer demons use with their humans. I can look into getting some if you’d like.”