23. rise and shine

23

RISE AND SHINE

DAY 18-19

I know the world is still turning, that the moon will eventually set and this night will end. It will then be a dream in truth—scattered impressions, stolen time too perfect to be real. And never to happen again.

But none of that matters when Leo's lips meet mine. However lurid my imagination has been where he's concerned, I missed the mark by a long shot. Beneath his suits and control and cutting intellect, he's a fucking animal . But so am I.

When he pulls my hair, I pull his back. When he bites my nipples, I dig my nails into his arms. And when in the flurry of our movements the head of his cock comes against my entrance, I grab its thick base and impale myself inch by torturous inch.

He groans, long and low, when he reaches the end of me. I sit utterly still, panting and wincing in discomfort. I'm not even sure he's all the way in, but I sure as hell hope so .

"Um… just give me a sec?—"

Leo flexes his hips. My body catches fire, every nerve ending exploding into sparks.

"Oh God, Leo?—"

One hand anchoring my hip, he growls, "This is what you wanted, so take it."

I almost come from those words alone, and again when he thrusts hard enough I see stars. I'm so wet for him the water around us doesn't matter, and finally, on his third thrust, my body adjusts and the pain fades.

"You feel perfect," he murmurs. "So fucking hot and tight. Better than I ever imagined."

Completely out of my mind and body, I moan like a harlot. I've never been with a man as depraved as me, and the realization of who I'm with—and that he'll never be mine—almost ruins the best sex of my life.

Leo Chastain is a filthy fucking unicorn. I'm never going to get past this, past him. This is a huge mistake.

All thought is swept away as he finds a devastating rhythm and claims my mouth again, his tongue sweeping deep. He kisses me like he owns me, like he'll never get enough. We slide against the smooth edge of the pool, his powerful legs doing all the work. Wrecking me. Unraveling me.

My orgasm unfolds slowly. Deceptively mild tremors that build, and build, until he has to cover my mouth to stifle my cries. My nails dig deep into his shoulders, a litany of his name pouring against his fingers. Instead of speeding up like most men would do, he slows and lets me grind against him .

"Take it," he demands. "Let me see you move."

So I do, riding him in tight little circles, my clit finding the perfect pressure against his pelvis. I own my pleasure, let go of my inhibitions—not that I have many—and give up any and all notion of guarding my heart where this man is concerned. Frankly, right now I don't give a shit.

He's at least eight inches deep, a dirty-talking, hair-pulling fiend wrapped up in a suit-wearing, control-freak package. I'm ruined for life.

But what a sweet way to go out.

I climax on a soundless scream as he whispers in my ear how much he wishes I were riding his face. That he can feel me gripping him like a vise, that right now my pussy belongs to him. As I come down, transitioning to a boneless sack of sweat and endorphins in his arms, he licks sweat from my neck then nuzzles my skin. Our arms locked tightly around each other, our hearts pound out the same fast and furious rhythm. I imagine them trying to break apart from our bodies and join.

I eventually realize he's still hard as a rock inside me.

"Leo?" I whisper, wiggling a little.

His head lifts, a lazy yet savage smile on his face. "Did you think we were done? I'm just getting started." The smile falls as his thumb brushes my lower lip. "I'll have to go easy on you. Your mouth is already swollen, and I don't think we can swing a bee-sting explanation."

I shake my head quickly, pressing fingers into his lips. "Don't. I mean, okay, go easy on the kissing, but don't talk about… it. There's nothing to talk about. We're on the same page. "

"And what page is that?" he asks, an eyebrow cocked.

"Don't make me say it. Please, let me dream as long as I can before I wake up."

His eyes roam my face. Finally, there's an infinitesimal shift in his expression. "Tonight, then." He brushes a soft kiss over my lips. "But I promise you're going to feel me for weeks."

Grateful to have skirted the topic of our inevitable implosion, I swirl my hips lazily. "I don't know if I believe you."

Strong fingers spread my ass, and his thumb presses proprietarily against a spot no man has gone before. I jerk forward with a squeal.

Leo's smile is pure wickedness. Does he relent? Not in the least. And by the time we return to camp hours later—me first, him forty minutes behind me—every hole on my body has taken him in one way or another.

I have a new hole, too. Wide enough for a 747, straight through my heart.

The moon is setting when I finally hear Leo return to camp. I wonder if the lust has worn off enough that he's panicking over all the ways we could be discovered.

I wonder if I care.

Rolling onto my side, I almost scream when I see Tiffany's eyes open and watching me. When my heart stops trying to break my rib cage, I exhale slowly.

"Didn't mean to wake you," I whisper. "Needed to pee. "

She blinks, calm and alarmingly alert. "Did you forget my issues with insomnia?"

If I didn't have twenty years of practice lying, I might start sobbing. Instead, I cock an eyebrow. "Fine, so I went for a walk. What are you, the tent police?"

"You don't have to do that, Mia," she whispers back. "Besides, your hair is wet and you stink of sulfur. It's okay. I won't tell anyone. I think it's awesome, actually. You and Doc are like Romeo and Juliet."

Oh, Fucking, Hell.

I circle the Truth Drain one last time. "Nothing happened. Yes, I followed him, found him in the hot springs. Tried to put the moves on him. Failed. Did you really think the unimpeachable Dr. Chastain would risk his career for some crazy pussy?"

She rolls her eyes. "The better question is, do I think he's hopelessly attracted to you in a weirdly intense and tragic way? Why, yes, I do."

I stare at her until my eyes water. Blinking, I rasp, "Thank you for not saying anything. But I don't want to talk about it. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. I'm keeping this secret until the grave. If you have any respect for him at all, you will too."

"Of course I will," she hisses with affront. "I'd never betray either of you."

Sensing her sincerity, my expression softens. "Thanks."

I roll over to stare at the wall of the tent and try my damnedest to think about something other than our last, lingering kiss, and the fact it tasted so bitterly of goodbye.

"Even Romeo and Juliet are together at the end," whispers Tiffany.

I bite my tongue.