Twisted(65)

“Hi.” He brushed a kiss over the top of her arm. “Doing okay?”

“Yeah. I had an out-of-body experience for a few minutes there, but I’m reasonably sure I’m still in one piece.”

“Good. Because I’m not done with you.” He moved closer, nestling his length against her ass, and she realized with a start that he was still hard.

How could that be possible?

“What are—you didn’t—you’ve gotta be freaking kidding me.” She rolled on her back and stared up at the tensed planes of his face, tracing her fingers along his jaw. The faint tremor under his skin made her swallow hard and search again for her voice. “You didn’t come?”

“Not yet.” He turned his head to kiss her fingertips, not reacting to the sound of distress she couldn’t stifle. “But the night’s young.”

Questions formed on her lips, trembling there while she walked her fingers down his neck to his shoulder and lower to his chest. Under her palm, his heart stampeded like a runaway locomotive, so fast that she wondered how she didn’t see it pounding in his throat. Her gaze shot to his. “Did you smoke before I got here?”

It didn’t make sense. He shouldn’t be revving this hard from weed, but there had to be some explanation. Even while he was lying beside her, his body vibrated with pent-up energy. She could practically feel the need pouring off him.

And that wasn’t even referring to his cock, which had felt like a baseball bat against her backside. Her poor abused pussy gave up a weak throb in protest.

“Nah.” He skimmed his hand over her breasts. His casualness felt forced. Almost practiced. “Maybe I should though. Take the edge off.”

Before she could open her mouth, he shifted away to dig through the nightstand. He rolled a joint in record time and returned to the bed. Shutting his eyes, he leaned against the headboard and took a long drag. Then another and another while she watched him with her own heart racing way faster than it should have.

Something was off, and she couldn’t place what. More than his unholy staying power, more than his sudden ease in smoking up in front of her. She tried to line up her thoughts, to find a way to broach a topic she didn’t want to touch with an eight-inch-still-freaking-hard cock. Even as he took hits off the joint, his erection curved against his stomach, so hard that she actually winced in sympathy.

Then his sleepy gray eyes landed on her and he passed her the joint without saying a word.

She started to object. Once was one thing. Maybe even more than once would be okay if it only happened occasionally. Extremely occasionally. But two nights in a row? She swallowed the bitter flavor in her mouth and shook her head. “This isn’t a good idea—”

“But I feel so good.” He pulled her against his side and gave her a heartbreaking smile, the kind she could use to keep her warm on cool nights. His soft lips brushed hers. “I want you to feel the way I do.” He kissed her chastely. All sweetness and heat. “Let’s share it.”

Already she could feel some of the tension leaking out of his embrace. Her Gray was coming back to her. If that joint had somehow helped the transition, though she didn’t know why, she couldn’t fault it.

She couldn’t say no.

Closing her eyes, she took a couple of quick hits. Like magic, the unexplainable fear that had gripped her insides began to dissipate. He chuckled beside her and turned his face into her hair, sighing as she reached down to cup his cock.

Guess she wasn’t so tired after all.

She passed him back the joint and climbed on top of him, gripping the headboard behind his head. He leaned up to slip his mouth over her nipple, drawing it inside as she slid her wet flesh over his length. He groaned and palmed her hip, nudging against her with an insistence that echoed in his hungry gaze.

All she wanted was him. This.

Licking her lips, she inched downward, taking him in so slowly that he hissed out a breath. She flinched at the flash of pain and he set down the joint long enough to gently rub her clit, easing the sting.

“I can make this better,” he said, his attention focused on what he was doing rather than on her face. “Just say the word.”

She smiled and arched her back, moving into his strokes. Magic hands. They could heal her anytime she asked. “If you mean more of what you’re doing right now, then yes.”

“No. Something else.” He shot her an unreadable look and reached for the joint, pinching off a quick hit. “A bit stronger than this. I wouldn’t ever do anything that didn’t make you feel good. I promise.”

His sudden intensity made her frown. Worse, it chased away the happy little bubbles bobbing along through her bloodstream. She narrowed her eyes on his face and giggled at his sulky mouth. “Aww, pouty Muffy Duffy. What’s the matter?” She kissed his stubbled throat and worked her way up to take a nip out of his lower lip. “I bet you want to fuck me.”