Page 106
Story: Sin City Lights
“Yes.” She arched into his hand.
With gentle fingers, he caressed her there, back to front, then back again. Slowly, he slipped one finger along her center, seeking, sliding, increasing the pressure slightly with every long, deliberate stroke.“All week…”
“Ah!”
Two fingers. “…I’ve thought…”
Three. “…of doing this.”
He decreased the pressure just slightly, then found exactly where she needed, and pressed a little harder, circling, gliding forward and back, and circling again.
She undulated with his hand. Her hips seemed to be moving of their own accord. Something was building, somewhere very deep anddistant. She chased it, but he was working her at such an impossibly languid pace.
“That’s it, Eve,” he murmured.“Go slowly with me now.”
She raised her chin, breathing deeply, reaching, teetering on the precipice.
Another pass, another…building, building…
And then, at last, it broke the surface. She tipped her head back, mouth open, coming apart in slow motion against him, like waves lapping and breaking, taking so very long to crest, then free fall. Over and over, she shuddered under his expert fingers.
Through it all, he held her, his warm hand gently coaxing, pressing his cheek to her hair, murmuring words of encouragement or murmuring sweet nothings. She couldn’t tell because she couldn’t comprehend a single thing he said.
She only knew feeling, warmth, and the sound of Adam’s deep voice.
At last, she floated down.
He nuzzled her hair.“You are so beautiful when you come.”
Small tremors still racked her body. Even her lower lip was trembling. He caught it in his mouth, sucking gently. Then, Adam gathered her to him, her back to his front, his arm firm around her waist, and took her slowly, sliding in deep and easy from behind. Hand on her hip, his strokes were long and unhurried, but his breathing was harsh in her ear, and she knew he, too, was flying.
Flying…Adam, flying.
She countered his moves, then reached back to touch him, her fingers lingering at the point where he was driving into her.
This felt like a dream, and she never wanted to wake up.
It also felt like more than just sex. It was like real lovemaking.
The realization struck her, and she closed her eyes, stunned at the thought.
She knew the second he was there because his hips stuttered, she felt him harden, and then the unmistakable sound of Adam coming washed over her in that low, exquisite rumble. She shook right along with him, then listened as his breath gradually calmed.
She sighed then and turned to kiss him lazily, her fingers threading in his hair, and wondered how on earth she could keep this up and stop herself from falling hopelessly for this man.
•
“The 1950s called, and they want their razor back.”
Eve leaned against the bathroom doorway, watching Adam drag the gold safety razor over the foam covering his face, leaving a fresh, clean-shaven line.
His blue eyes met hers in the mirror, and he paused for a moment, looking her up and down in that way that released instant dancing sparklers in her lower belly.
“I’ll have you know this is a classic Gillette Gold. My grandfather gave each of us one when we started to grow facial hair.” He grinned. “Except for my sister. I don’t know how he got them. Brand-new in box.”
“Looks tedious.”
“I like to get a close shave.”
With gentle fingers, he caressed her there, back to front, then back again. Slowly, he slipped one finger along her center, seeking, sliding, increasing the pressure slightly with every long, deliberate stroke.“All week…”
“Ah!”
Two fingers. “…I’ve thought…”
Three. “…of doing this.”
He decreased the pressure just slightly, then found exactly where she needed, and pressed a little harder, circling, gliding forward and back, and circling again.
She undulated with his hand. Her hips seemed to be moving of their own accord. Something was building, somewhere very deep anddistant. She chased it, but he was working her at such an impossibly languid pace.
“That’s it, Eve,” he murmured.“Go slowly with me now.”
She raised her chin, breathing deeply, reaching, teetering on the precipice.
Another pass, another…building, building…
And then, at last, it broke the surface. She tipped her head back, mouth open, coming apart in slow motion against him, like waves lapping and breaking, taking so very long to crest, then free fall. Over and over, she shuddered under his expert fingers.
Through it all, he held her, his warm hand gently coaxing, pressing his cheek to her hair, murmuring words of encouragement or murmuring sweet nothings. She couldn’t tell because she couldn’t comprehend a single thing he said.
She only knew feeling, warmth, and the sound of Adam’s deep voice.
At last, she floated down.
He nuzzled her hair.“You are so beautiful when you come.”
Small tremors still racked her body. Even her lower lip was trembling. He caught it in his mouth, sucking gently. Then, Adam gathered her to him, her back to his front, his arm firm around her waist, and took her slowly, sliding in deep and easy from behind. Hand on her hip, his strokes were long and unhurried, but his breathing was harsh in her ear, and she knew he, too, was flying.
Flying…Adam, flying.
She countered his moves, then reached back to touch him, her fingers lingering at the point where he was driving into her.
This felt like a dream, and she never wanted to wake up.
It also felt like more than just sex. It was like real lovemaking.
The realization struck her, and she closed her eyes, stunned at the thought.
She knew the second he was there because his hips stuttered, she felt him harden, and then the unmistakable sound of Adam coming washed over her in that low, exquisite rumble. She shook right along with him, then listened as his breath gradually calmed.
She sighed then and turned to kiss him lazily, her fingers threading in his hair, and wondered how on earth she could keep this up and stop herself from falling hopelessly for this man.
•
“The 1950s called, and they want their razor back.”
Eve leaned against the bathroom doorway, watching Adam drag the gold safety razor over the foam covering his face, leaving a fresh, clean-shaven line.
His blue eyes met hers in the mirror, and he paused for a moment, looking her up and down in that way that released instant dancing sparklers in her lower belly.
“I’ll have you know this is a classic Gillette Gold. My grandfather gave each of us one when we started to grow facial hair.” He grinned. “Except for my sister. I don’t know how he got them. Brand-new in box.”
“Looks tedious.”
“I like to get a close shave.”
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