Page 90 of Reverie

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“You want the world, Victory Blakely, and I’m going to try and give it to you.”

She stopped pacing and set one shaky hand on her hip. The orange band on her wrist looked completely out of place next to her expensive outfit but also perfectly placed because she was Victory Blakely. Without color, she wasn’t her.

“You’re mixing up my thoughts, Jett. I sat in that chair”—she thrust a finger toward her desk—“all day telling myself we don’t fit. I chose the right words with the right reality this time. I didn’t fabricate it or fluff it up. I flew down from the clouds you think I’m on to get to your level. I told myself we will never ever work.”

“Let’s go past the sign that says Imminent Shitstorm Ahead, Pix. Let’s see if we can.”

She stalked up to me and grabbed the back of my neck to take my mouth in hers. The woman kissed like she approached life. The color blasted through me, making me wonder if I’d only been living in gray scale all of my adulthood. She pulled back. “Don’t disappoint me, Phantom.”

I smiled. “I wasn’t joking when I told you to lift your skirt.”

She stepped back and slid it slowly up her hips. My dick stood to attention immediately. Her long legs looked smooth as silk, and when I grabbed her by the waist, she wrapped them around me and tightened her hold. “Is this room somewhat soundproof?”

“Doesn’t matter if it isn’t. I expect you to scream my name, Pix. And I don’t care if everyone hears it.”

She moaned and yanked what little hair of mine she could grasp, then dove in for another kiss. This was long overdue. I swiped my tongue across her plump bottom lip. “Still taste like strawberries.”

She bit my lip and ground out, “And you still taste like the Phantom in my dreams, the one I couldn’t shake even though I wanted to.”

I’d pictured her on my desk for days now, pictured taking her everywhere in Stonewood Tower. When she murmured those words, I almost dropped her, almost ran the other way. Something deep in me stirred, and I wasn’t sure if I could handle it. I was used to managing everything, and not being able to control this feeling, this relationship with her, put a frigid fear in me.

Her nails dragged across my back, and she looked up at me. Her brow furrowed like she was just as nervous, just as scared, like she knew the chemistry between us would erupt and destroy us or be a phenomenon we could never come back from.

I swooped one arm across my desk and files flew to the floor along with all but one paperweight. I dropped her ass on the edge of the oversize desk and placed that brilliant rainbow of glass next to her. She and I looked at it for a second.

“Do I want to know?” she whispered.

“If we don’t work out, I’ll name this piece after you.” I unbuckled my belt and slid it slow and deliberate from my waist. She watched my every movement and then leaned forward to unbutton my pants and lower my zipper. I took my dick from my briefs and said, “You’re swirling around in my damn head, and I swear it looks just like this. Color everywhere, warring and fighting and fucking with me.”

“Jett, I can’t ... you can’t say things like that to me and expect …”

I stopped her by sliding my fingers up her thighs and moving the lace thong she wore to the side. “I say what I mean, and I mean every word.”

She hissed when one finger slid in. “God, I’m so wet already.”

“Because I’m here to fuck you, Victory Blakely. I own this part of you.”

Her eyes flew open as she ground her pussy into my hand. “No one owns any part of me, Phantom. I belong to me.” She grabbed my wrist and worked herself faster as I slid another finger in. She rode my hand like she was chasing her dreams, her head falling back. With her eyes closed and her pinkish hair cascading down around her, swaying to her rhythm, she captivated me. “You’re mine, woman.”

“I’m mine. I own me.” Her damn drive and determination to be herself, to push herself, to stand up and shine bright as the sun hooked its claws into me. My armor melted, bled down onto the floor and dissipated.

“If you say so, Pix. If you say so,” I murmured as she hit her high and I watched, riveted by the way she writhed against me.

She came back to me quick, eyes wide and alert. A sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, and she yanked my hand from her sex to bring it to her lips. She tasted herself on my fingers and I almost came right there as she sucked them clean. “I do say so, Phantom. And don’t you ever forget it.”

I plunged into her like I could overpower her or manage her rapture over me by working her into a frenzy again. I delivered the high she craved and swam in the dream she’d invented for me. I didn’t know how she’d gradually hypnotized me, but she had. I wondered if I could do the same to her, if I could charm her into indulging me for a bit longer.

When she screamed my name, I gripped the paperweight next to her and used the edge of my desk as leverage to bury myself deep into her as I came.

We both forced in deep breaths, relishing the post-orgasm sensation. I pushed up on my forearms and peered down at her.

“You good?” I asked, voice softer than it had probably ever been after sex.

She glanced down at our bodies, still wrapped up in each other. She cleared her throat. “Yeah, fine.”

I looked down, too, with a sinking thought. “Shit.” I pulled out of her and off her in the same motion. “I didn’t protect you.”

“Or yourself,” she declared and waved at my junk.


Tags: Shain Rose Romance