Page 116 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I

She reaches up and rubs my shoulder. Her touch… she’s lucky my cock is spent.

“Hercules, I’m busy tomorrow, and I’m really tired.”

We just went at it hard. I made her shiver against my mouth seven times. I counted them.

I drop my shirt onto the floor. “Your wish is my command.”

She tosses her legs over the side off the bed and sits on the edge of the mattress.

“Whoa, where are you going?” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist and planting kisses on her back. Her skin is as soft as a flower.

She moans with delight. “You’ll take me home?”

“No. You’re sleeping here tonight.” I seize her clit and rub.

“Ah…” She breathes out a sigh.

I guide her back down in bed, and then she’s in my mouth.Seven more times, and one is almost done.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Dinner with Heartly

Paisley Grove

Hercules snores gently against the back of my neck. I love that sound. I’ve pulled my hair up and over my shoulder so that I can feel his wind spreading across my skin.

I slide my palm across the back of his hand. I can feel the heat of his skin against my belly. My back side is fastened to his front side. I can’t imagine separating from him.

I can’t fall asleep. The excitement of being near Hercules Valentine is too high. Plus, as long as I’m living a lie, it’s hard to rest. At this very moment, I want to shake him awake and tell him the truth. My lie is vexing.

But there are a lot of other things about Hercules that make me uncomfortable. He’s such an adult. His bed is huge and has a black leather tufted headboard. It’s sexy and comfortable, a lot like him. His sheets smell like him too. And every part of the apartment is so exceptionally decorated. The furniture appears custom-made and handpicked with ambience in mind. He likes artwork too. The piece he bought from Lake isn’t outside his range of taste. There are a lot of abstracts hanging on the walls, which I find interesting.Why not more representational pieces?Because Hercules has never been an on-the-nose person. He’s always been hard to figure out. He’s indeed the embodiment of an abstract painting.

His snore cracks against my neck. He pulls me closer to him as his hand travels up my sternum. “Soft,” he whispers.

I gasp when he seizes one of my breasts then kneads it and gently pinches the nipple to make it harder. I guess he’s waking up. And then when he rubs his hardening manhood against me, I know exactly what he wants.

“Baby,” he whispers as he carefully guides me onto my back.

I part my thighs for him and wrap my arms around his broad, strong back. Yet again, I am full of Hercules Valentine. Yet again, I’m in sensory overload, trying to keep my tears from rolling as his manhood glides in and out, in and out. I’m so wet.

Mmm…

I blink slowly.Sunlight intrudes into my eyes as I stretch my arm, reaching for Hercules. I don’t make contact with his hilly chest or solid biceps.

I slide my palm up and down the mattress.I’m alone.

The haziness dissolves from my vision as I flip onto my back.

“Good morning,” Hercules says.

I’m not alone.I sit up. Hercules is standing at the foot of his bed. He’s wearing a navy-blue tracksuit that makes him extra scrumptious.

“Good morning,” I croon and stretch. I can feel traces of his manhood pumping through me, and it’s making me horny—that is, until I become cognizant of the glum expression on his face as he checks his watch.

“I’m going for a run. I’ll take you home when I get back,” he says.

I hold my breath then let it out. “Okay.”