Page 155 of Lost Lyrebird

I wake slowly from a blissful sleep instead of a nightmare or vivid dream.Judging by the amount of light filtering into the room through the blinds, it’s the early hours.The air holds that morning chill, made more noticeable by the fact that the sweet creature lying next to me has stolen a good deal of the sheets sometime in the night.

I carefully turn so I can lean on my elbow and take her in like this.

She’s a stomach sleeper.Her face is pressed to the sheet.Her pillow is nowhere in sight.The tips of her fingers are a breath away from her thick bottom lip, and her other hand is hidden under the messy waves of her brown and caramel mane of hair.

As I revel in her beauty, flashes of the best day of my life come back to me.Our morning ride yesterday.Making love in the lake next to the waterfall.Our dinner conversation at the family-owned restaurant.And laying her out for the first time on my bed, and taking her apart piece by piece until she begged for me to put an end to the torment and get inside of her.

I’m so fucking thankful I’m able to recall those moments with clarity.I wrote them down in my journal just in case, but I can’t express how much it means to hold them in my mind’s eye, too.

I remember the feel of her body hugging mine on our rides.I remember the way her skin glowed in the sunlight.The sassy, playful way she bantered with me on the hike, and the wonder on her face when we arrived at the waterfall.The desperate whimpers and moans I drew from her as we came together that first time, and the slow way we came down from that combustible heat last night.She didn’t retreat like I’d thought she might.She didn’t get dressed and try to make an escape.She loved on me, ran her fingers through my hair, pecked my lips, and was the softest version of her that I’d ever experienced.

Maybe yesterday was as transformative for her as it was for me.

At the lake, we’d played around in the water for about an hour, and after I’d pulled the blanket from my backpack, we’d lain out to dry in the sun afterward.I unpacked the supplies, and we snacked for a while.I went back to my detail collecting, but not in the way I had before.I wasn’t digging for more information, I was letting her unravel for me and appreciating every single thing her choices and words told me.

And last night, I took my time learning every inch of her skin, every curve of her body, listening to each breathy plea, gasp, and desperate moan.

I let myself relive the best moments and a few memories in particular, take up billboard space inside my head.Her lying spread on my bed and writhing as she fucked herself on her fingers.The way she pulled them out and fed them to me—the fierce, earnest desire in her eyes as she did.

Her level of greed for the forbidden and lurid aspects of sex is pure intoxication.I swear to God it puts me in a haze where the feeling, touch, taste, sounds, and the sight of her are all that matter.

The way her back bowed as I took her without mercy and fucked her with abandon.The way her breath exited her lungs in one solid punch when I lifted her legs onto my shoulders, bent over her, and slid back inside her.How she scraped her nails so deeply into my skin that they left their mark on the man underneath the skin.

Fuck she did.Maybe she doesn’t realize it, but she did.

The image of her pussy stretched around my cock.The way her body moved, skin dewy with sweat, and rolling to a rhythm that resembled waves cresting and receding.Then she pushed me back and turned, and I took her from behind while gripping her small hips.

I got my wish and finally spanked her ass, and her response encouraged me to let go and fulfill that desire to my heart’s content.

Hearing her scratchy voice hoarsely shout my name to the ceiling when she hit her peak brought mine forward like a siren’s call, and we came apart together.

As we lay together afterward, catching our breath, I thought of only one thing—that I could do this for a lifetime, and it wouldn’t be enough.

This moment is different than all the others, though.This is solace.Her at peace.A wild thing at rest.Even though my bodily functions scream at me to piss, brush my teeth, and get coffee loaded into my veins, I deny every impulse because this is what I want most—to see this beautiful creature lying right beside me.

When I can no longer put off my bodily needs, I move as slowly as possible and do my best not to wake her.I’m successful.Within a dozen minutes or so, I’m back.Coffee in hand and bad breath banished.

After gently placing a cup on the end table beside her side of the bed, I retreat to mine and crawl back under the covers with her.

It’s a while before she stirs.Then her legs scissor under the sheets.A small moan escapes her before her husky voice says, “I can feel you watching me.”

Chuckling under my breath, I retort, “Is that right?”

She sweeps her hair out of her face.“Yes.Mr.Creepy Creeperton.”She sits up and has no qualms about her naked body.The flesh on display is delicious and enticing.I lick my bottom lip, and I let my gaze roam over her.

She smirks knowingly.

“What?I can’t watch the woman I fucked into the mattress last night, sleep?”

She shrugs.“It’s your bed, your room, so I guess you can do whatever you like.”

Damn right it is.And if it were up to me, it’s where she’d stay.

I say none of it.

Instead, I take a sip from my coffee.Before I can lower it back to my lap, she reaches for it.I motion to the other side of the bed.“I made you one too, but I wasn’t sure how you take it.”

“Coffee is coffee.I dress it up and make it as sugary sweet as possible, but that’s me.When I’m desperate, I’ll take it any way I can get it.Caffeine is life, and without it, well, let’s just say, I’d be the zombiest zombie who ever was.So yeah, hand it over or I’ll attack.”She waves her hand.