Page 26 of Galaxy Games Four-Book Box Set (Galaxy Games)

26

Pretty Spectacular

B laze

He places his cock at my entrance, his forearms bracketing my head. We’re both amped up, juiced with all the excitement and foreplay and danger. But this moment isn’t going to be about spearing into me and taking me on a wild ride. No, by the look in his eyes, we’re about to embark on a journey neither of us have taken before.

“Hold on to me,” he says.

When my arms surround his neck, he nods, then adds, “My eyes.”

I hesitate for a moment. Fucking is easy. This? The intimacy of staying present for what’s about to come next. This will be hard. We both know how special this is, and that due to all the realities of The Game , we’ll never be able to do it again.

I gaze into his blue eyes and smile when I notice a dot of navy in the sea of ice in his right eye.

“I’m ready,” I say as I melt into the moment.

He pulses at my entrance.

“You’re drenched, Slayer.”

“For you,” I reply, loving our connection now that I’ve decided to embrace the intimacy.

He refuses to glide deeper into me. He must be waiting for something. My hips dance with his as we collaborate together to make this last.

He dips his head lower in slow increments until his velvet-soft lips graze mine. As he holds my gaze, he slides into me. One long, slow, delicious invasion into my most intimate space.

“That’s right, Titan. Only you.”

Gripping his ass, feeling those powerful muscles working as he pumps in and out, I get to appreciate the animal that is Xzavic. The growl has morphed into a purr which is constant now, and louder. His eyes flare open for a moment as if this surprises even him.

It’s so sexy, my core pulses around him, clutching him tighter of its own accord.

I thought I wanted fast and hard, but this slow-motion fucking is even better. I get to memorize again and again the bliss of entry after he’s left my body completely, the moment my channel accepts him, and the joy of welcoming him all the way into me as his long, thick cock tunnels to the very depths of me.

The three thick ridges stretch me as they enter. Stoking my fires. Possessing me. The rhythm is perfect, our gazes locked, his purr so loud I feel it vibrating against my chest. That little extra plate of skin above his cock bumps my clit with every thrust. Now he’s added a little hip circle at the end of every drive that ramps my pleasure even more.

“You promised you would ride him, Slayer,” Zedd interrupts, her voice a combination of gloating and glee as she knows she’s pulling us from the magical place we’ve discovered where there aren’t millions of beings watching.

I grab him by the hair and maraud his mouth. He needs to know the depth and breadth of my feelings before this magical moment turns into a circus.

“You’re an amazing male,” I tell him with my mouth as my heart wants to say the other thing. The thing I’ve forbidden myself to say.

The moment morphs into something else. The incandescent sweetness, by necessity, has to change to the tawdry mandate of entertaining the masses.

We roll wordlessly so he’s on his back with me on top of him.

I won’t let her rob us of our joy, though. Whatever she thinks she’s stolen from us, I’m snatching it back.

We’re still joined, so I sit up straight and ride him slowly, as if it’s a competition to see how deliberate I can be. In this position, it’s more obvious how long and thick he is inside me. It requires effort to lift to the top of his shaft and then bottom out again and again. I feel the pressure as I slide up each of his three ridges, then impale myself on the way down.

We haven’t lost our connection. The network can conspire against us, but it’s two against the universe, and we’re still fighting.

Leaning lower, my nipples drag against his hairless chest. His body is so much hotter than mine I wonder if sparks are flying as things between us heat up.

When I tilt my hips, I feel his cockhead hit that spot inside me that propels me to the stratosphere. I’m whimpering now with every thrust. It feels too good.

He turns us so I’m on my back and pumps into me, harder and faster than I would have thought possible. His hips piston like a machine as he slings himself against me. He’s pounding me, but somehow I want it even harder. He wants to leave his seed inside me? I want the remnants of our coupling to make me ache between my legs days from now, if I’m still alive.

“Harder,” I urge as I put my soles on the bed so I can rise to greet his every thrust.

He complies, slamming into me so powerfully every thrust pushes me up the bed until my head touches the cave wall with every surge.

When my orgasm finally hits, my nails dig so deeply into the plating on his shoulders I’m sure they’re drawing blood.

How can it feel like I’m leaving my body when I feel every movement, every slide of skin on skin, hear every huff of his breath, smell the musk of his body? Everything in the universe constricts into pinpoint clarity in this moment. All the pleasure converges into my clit, then bursts like an explosion into every pore of my body. Scalp to toes and back again. The pleasure rolls and roils into every muscle, my skin and bones. My muscles contract in the thrill, then burst with bliss.

I scream what to the universe might sound like nonsense syllables, but what my lover will know is his name.

He grunts as his own release cascades into me. His hips slow as he slams all the way into me like he’s trying to touch bottom. Once, twice, three times as his come sprays inside me.

He falls to the mattress next to me and jams his face against my neck. It was as intimate and moving for him as it was for me. He doesn’t want an audience to see his expression despite the intrusive drones edging closer.

The network made a tactical error by giving us a bedspread, because he grips it and slings it over us so we’re covered as Jahzara begins a blow by blow dissection of what the viewers just observed.

My palm is cupping his cheek, a blissed-out smile on my face as I hear her describing what could only be instant replays in slow motion. If Xzavic wasn’t in my arms, I would die of mortification, imagining so many people looking at my ass as I rode him a few minutes ago.

He pulls me back to the moment, his palm on my cheek, mimicking my posture. “I’ll remember that always,” he says sincerely, an almost-imperceptible smile on his face.

We both know what is unspoken, that always might mean less than twenty-four hours. But it’s a sweet sentiment.

We settle against each other as I lift my bent leg over his thigh and scootch him closer.

“We have this moment,” he says, “and it’s a pretty spectacular one.”

“Spectacular. That’s an understatement.”