He made me feel adored.
Worshipped.
Indebted to my gift.
Withdrawing him from my mouth, I swirled my tongue around his tip before swallowing him in one swift sweep.
“Ah, shit.” He jerked, bending over me. “Goddammit, Buttercup.” His voice was unrecognizable—brittle and strained.
With a racing heart, I kept going. I dedicated myself to giving him the best blow job I could.
His balls tightened, tensing against his body. Ripples of pleasure worked along his shaft beneath my tongue.
He was close.
Switching from languishing to quick, I sucked harder, wanting to steal every control from him.
He cried out as his hands moved with my head, bobbing up and down on his cock.
His hips twitched faster.
His breathing came quicker.
His body unraveled with every second.
Together, we found a perfect waltz. Every swallow down his length he thrust forward, using my mouth but giving so much in return. He gave me his soul. His undoing. His vulnerability.
Then, he froze. “Fuck, I’m going—”
I swirled my tongue faster, squeezing him harder in answer.
I want you to come.
I wanted to taste everything he could give me. Maybe then he would be mine for eternity.
His fingers yanked on my hair with urgency. “Stop. Fuck, I’m going to—”
I moaned low in my throat. The vibrations of my voice amplified the slick heat and wetness of my mouth and Arthur lost the battle.
“Shit!”
He grabbed my head, his strong fingers digging deliciously into my scalp as he roared and gave himself over to me.
I bobbed faster, unsheathing my teeth to scrape the sharpness down his satiny length, highlighting his pleasure with a threat of pain.
He combusted.
His balls throbbed in my touch; a wave of pressure escaped the base of him, rippling past my tongue and shooting into my mouth.
The first splash caught me by surprise. Hot. Thick.
Squeezing my eyes, I kept sucking, kept stroking.
His hips rocked faster.
I moaned again as another salty spray coated the back of my throat.
Another wave.
I kept licking, kept taking until he shuddered in my hold.
His body crumbled, losing its strength and giving in to gravity. With an endless sigh, he ran his fingers from my hair to my chin, prying me upward and forcing me to let go of his cock.
Raising my head, I smiled and swallowed the remainder of his orgasm.
The glow in his eyes utterly undid me.
I got chills at the fathomless affection and awe blazing on his face.
Crashing to his knees, he captured my cheeks and kissed my lips with utmost humbleness. “Thank you,” he panted between kisses. “Thank you for exploding my world and showing me heaven does exist.”
I laughed softly, pulling away from his mouth. “I’m so glad I was the one to show you.”
He shook his head, his hands never leaving my face. “There’s never been anyone like you. Never. You owned me since I was a boy. And you completely consume me now that I’m a man.”
Tears pricked my eyes as he struggled to hide the sudden glassiness of his own. “Cleo …” His voice broke. “Fuck, Cleo. I love you so goddamn much.”
He launched himself at me. Syncing our heartbeats, plaiting our minds—ensuring we were soldered together.
Wrapping long arms like a cage around me, he squashed me against his chest. The rapid thump-thump of his heart echoed from his body into mine and I felt something I’d never felt before.
A link.
An intrinsic otherworldly link that bound me not to this world but another.
Our world.
Our home.
Our harmony.
I woke to the rays of golden sunshine and the gentlest stroking of my lover.
My mind was soft and floaty. My body warm and toasty.
It was the best wake-up call I’d ever had.
Turning to face Arthur, I smiled. My vision cast everything in a sleepy haze. “Morning.”
His smile lit up my world. The strain around his eyes remained and the tightness around his shoulders hinted he still suffered, but for now … he looked radiant.
“Morning.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Did you know you moaned in your sleep?”
Rolling onto my back, I threw my arms over my head and stretched. “I did?”
He nodded, his eyes glued on to my bare breasts from the sheet sliding down. “You did. It was long and loud and …” Without another word, he bent over me and sucked my nipple into his mouth.
I gasped at the sudden shock of heat and wetness.
“I think you were dreaming of me. Am I right?” His mouth trailed over the swell of my breast, licking my other nipple as if I were a melting ice cream and he needed every drop.
My mind emptied apart from the intoxicating lick. “I … I don’t know.” Slinking my fingers into his hair, I murmured, “I might need some coaxing to remember.”
He chuckled, cupping my breast and squeezing with a possessive tantalizing hold. “Coaxing? Are you certain?”
I arched into his touch, luxuriating in the way my body warmed. “Very certain. My memory is terrible.”
He flinched, his eyes glancing up my torso to connect with mine. “You can say that again.”
Pain shadowed. My faux pas tainted our fun.
It wasn’t the best joke. Should I apologize?
But then I burst out laughing. If we couldn’t laugh about the past, what could we do? “I suppose it is a little ironic for a recovered amnesiac to say she has a bad memory.”