Page 37 of The Sin Eater
When I finally take both our cocks in hand, he makes a sound like nothing I’ve heard before. His dick is long and slender, and there’s a patch of curls at the base that brush my knuckles as I stroke both of us, lowering myself so I’m mostly lying on him. He mouths my neck, working his way along the thick muscle toward my shoulder. Near my scar, he uses his teeth.
“Fuck. That’s going to leave a mark.”
He hums, kissing the spot. His legs are wrapped around mine and we’re in synch, thrusting into my grip. “This feels so goddamn good.”
He’s got his lips pressed together, like it’s taking all his willpower not to speak. He looks damned happy about it, and that adds another layer to my pleasure.
“Don’t forget, I get to come first.”
Somehow just saying the words makes them true. My hips lose their rhythm and I manage to gasp a warning. “Coming.”
He wraps a hand around mine, and I lose all control, shooting hard, wrapped in a storm of white-hot pleasure.
For a good few heartbeats, thinking is something other people do. My dick slides away from my hand, and, resting my forehead on his shoulder, I let my brain come back online slowly. My first clear thought is that now it’s time for me to do what I really want, which is to take care of him.
My next thought is that anything like care will have him running for the door.
He’s thrusting into my hand and I shift so I can speak directly in his ear. Tightening my grip, I whisper, “Your turn.”
He grunts, his eyes closed. His hips move faster and he rocks his head from side to side, more a loss of control than a refusal. “Come on, baby.” My lips brush his ear. “Let it go.”
With a grinding cry, his body bows, muscles clenched, and hot come shoots over the back of my hand. “That’s right. You’re gorgeous right now, baby. Just gorgeous.”
He relaxes and I reach behind myself to see if I can grab the blanket off the floor. It’s within reach, so I pull it over both of us and snuggle in closer.
He cracks an eyelid. “You really are that hot, D.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I kiss his cheek. I should get up and find a wet rag to clean up with. I don’t. Not yet.
He snores softly, which makes me smile. At some point we’re going to have to talk about what freaked him out at the carnival. Or we should, anyway, although I can’t imagine Ezra getting involved in any kind of serious conversation. For now, I figure I’ve got a good hour before my shoulder’s going to insist I get off this chaise. It’s really not meant to be slept on, not by both of us anyway. For now, anyway, I’ll enjoy the warmth of lying next to Ezra Morgue.
Chapter Thirteen
Ezra
Toxic isn’t your middle name, dumbass. Stupid is.” Geneva pushes back from the desk, a laugh underlining her sharp assessment.
“That’s what I get for oversharing.”
More laughter, with slightly less bite. “Since you don’t usually say much of anything, I guess I can cope.”
I’m straddling one of the office chairs, chin resting on my forearms, feeling like an idiot for opening my damn mouth. Since Damon left Saturday night, I’ve been stewing, to the point where I couldn’t keep it to myself. Which, to be honest, is so far out of character I could be somebody else. Fuck, nothing about Damon is my normal. I don’t do dates, I don’t do carnivals, and I sure as hell don’t bring men home.
But with Damon, I did all of those things, and to make everything that much worse, now I’ve gone and told Geneva about it. Well, most of it, anyway. I didn’t tell her about seeing the dead woman in the crystal ball. I also glossed over the part where I freaked myself out and ran through the crowd until some guy with weird eyes told me I’d brought the darkness in with me or whatever.
I did get into more detail on the sexy parts.
“But wouldn’t you be bummed if you’d had sex with someone for the first time and they left without saying goodbye?”
She looks at me as if I’ve grown an extra head. “Not bummed enough to send a rando text saying I didn’t want to get into anything toxic.”
I drop my head to hide my eyes. “But toxicismy middle name.”
“You can say that again.” Her expression slides to the exasperation end of the spectrum. “Besides, you fell asleep on him. Like, you didn’t even wake up till six a.m.”
“Yeah, but—”
“And he responded like any rational adult would.”