7
Patrena
Once we had literally fucked the shit out of each other, I lay in bed wrapped up in Tywin. I didn’t lie to myself about the way I felt about him. I hardly knew the man, but instincts, intuition, or whatever it was driving me, didn’t leave any doubt that he was the man for me. Syndicate be damned, I wanted this man and for a hell of a lot more than one night.
What the hell had I gone and done? This could have all been avoided if I had acted like a lady and sat my hot-tail ass down somewhere. I was sure that in the four times we had devoured each other he had taken his time and made love to me at least a time and a half.
I had enjoyed his sexual personalities because each had the power to bring me to my knees. And his dick, so thick and long with that curve that hooked slightly right and upward to allow the head to lick my G-spot at an angle that drove me plum damn crazy.
The man did it for me; that thing you’re always searching for in a sexual partner but can’t ever truly find. Tywin had it.
He turned me on, turned me out, and turned me all about. Like now, instead of running out on me, he was still in my bed. He had pulled me in tight and kept me snuggled up to his hot body. He gave me a heavenly, sweet feeling that had me closing my eyes and praying this would not be our first and last time together.
The way he was holding me, it didn’t feel like we were these people who’d agreed to a one-time fling. He knew how to fill me with so much passion that the sensation of floating within myself had taken control, making me heady and unable to contain the spellbinding rush of it all.
His fingers brushed light strokes along my back. My head was supported by the bend of his muscular arm, and the rest of me was pressed securely into his side. The position allowed our heart beats to blend and sync and become one.
“So, Tywin, tell me a half secret about yourself.”
“Why a half secret?” he asked, running his nose along the ridges of my jaw line.
“Because we don’t know each other well enough to tell all. And like this night, I’d rather have something than nothing,” I admitted, speaking honestly.
The warmth in each breath we took, the melody of each rhythm, released and pulled me into a deep state of peace. It was like reaching the unified field during meditation where everything good and perfect was multiplied to infinity.
“At fifteen, I experienced one of the worst tragedies of my life that ironically, led to one of the best things to ever happen to me.”
My hand slid caringly across a long, jagged scar on the front of his shoulder blade and stopped at his left pec. “It sounds like a very complex story. I’m sorry it happened to you, but I’m happy you got a best from it.”
“Your turn,” he prompted.
“I believe I was marked with a part of my history at birth, but I lost my mother at five, and a lot of historical secrets I needed to know died with her.”
He snuggled me in tighter, squeezing with enough pressure to make me squeal and giggle. The tender kisses he placed all over my face beat back the edge of sadness that tried to sneak into our scene.
Tywin had a kinky streak in him, but I experienced so much passion embedded in this exchange that I wasn’t sure he understood what he was giving off. He leaned in and joined our lips. The connection was instant, potent. The feeling was stimulating in a way that sent vibes of energy racing to the tips of my fingers.
“Give me one more,” I asked of him, wanting to know everything about him but accepting and appreciating the pieces I was getting.
“I lied to myself in order to get through a situation, knowing I would suffer later for not being truthful with myself.”
I laughed. “That’s exactly what I was going to say. You stole my half secret.”
We laughed lightheartedly, but we knew the half secret about lying to himself was about us. We were lying to ourselves about spending this one night together. I was already trying to reconcile in my brain how I would get over him.
He stole away my thoughts with the sensual slide of his hand up my thigh, and I felt him growing hard against my inner thigh slung across his body.
Truth was, any man had the ability to fuck me good, but Tywin was the one who had blown my mind wide open to the point where I knew I’d crave him after this night. Two weeks, two months, or two years later, and the echoes of the orgasms he had blessed me with tonight would still be roaming my body. The hard slaps of his heavy hand against my ass cheeks and his ability to turn every part of me into liquid desire was not something I could ever imagine forgetting.
Being with him was pure sexual meditation in which you became so lost in the moment until you created a whole new you, lived on a new plateau, and experienced sensations that you didn’t even know existed.
I released a long-winded sigh. The way I was thinking and the way he had set me on fire, I believed I was addicted to Tywin. How the hell was I supposed to get him out of my system when he left?
* * *
My chiming doorbellhad woken me at six-thirty. The first thing I did when consciousness found me was reach for Tywin because I had fallen asleep in his arms. I knew he had to leave, but I had secretly prayed he would stay.
The doorbell chimed again, and the idea that it was him at my door had me up and out of bed in seconds. After throwing on my robe, I sprinted to the door, stubbing my damn toe on the edge of my couch in the process of getting there.