The noise that came from me was one I didn’t recognize, and I saw a whole universe of stars as she did the move again. I could barely keep pace, barely focus on anything with her touching me there, and with more confidence when I didn’t tell her to stop, she rolled them in her palm, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure to drive me over the edge.
“Oh fuck, Giana. I… I…”
I couldn’t even warn her, couldn’t say a fucking word as my release spilled violently from me, taking every ounce of awareness I had and focusing on that one euphoric feeling. I pounded into her, savoring every thrust of my release like it was the sweetest drug.
And it was.
She was.
It was the longest orgasm I’d ever had, one that continued to assault me with wave after wave even when I was sure it was over. I didn’t know if it was her hands on my balls or just her, period, but I was so fucking spent by the time I stopped coming, it was all I could do to carefully pull out of her and roll to the side, my chest heaving, lungs burning from the exercise.
“Holy shit,” Giana said, crawling over until she was lying on my chest. “Is it… is it always like this?”
“Never,” I answered honestly, and I cocked a brow at her before we both erupted in laughter.
I pulled her into me then, our legs tangling together as we held onto each other and traced lines on our bare skin as our breathing slowly calmed.
Eventually, our breaths evened out, the room growing quieter, more still. I ran my fingers through her hair, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as something achingly foreign pulled at my heart.
“I’m yours,” she whispered, as if she knew where my spiral was taking me, how I was picturing a day when she’d decide I wasn’t enough for her, a day when she’d walk away and leave me in her dust.
I swallowed against the tightness that built in my throat at the nightmarish thought, choosing to find comfort in her words instead of questioning the truth of them.
“And I’m yours,” I whispered back.
Her arms tightened around me, and for one night, everything was perfect.
We should have known it could never stay that way.
Giana
In all my favorite movies, and in all my favorite books, there’s this moment that I like to call the cotton candy cloud moment.
It’s usually at the beginning, but sometimes a little toward the end, when everything is working out perfectly for the main character. They’re high on life, everything going their way, and they bear an impenetrable smile as they seemingly float through every day on a cloud of fluffy pink and purple sugar. It usually happens right before everything crashes down.
That was me.
I was having my cotton candy cloud moment.
And there was no crash in sight.
Charlotte was so impressed after the auction and especially by me handling our away game in Maine that she offered to extend my contract through next season — and with that came a signing bonus and a raise. I was shocked to silence when she first told me, but she’d only smiled and arched a brow.
“Your determination to prove everyone wrong about you worked,” she said. “But now, I want you to ask yourself what it is you really want from this. And then, I want you to take it.”
Her belief in me had stoked a fire, making me consider all the ways my career could pan out. It was intoxicating to think about.
But nothing was as intoxicating as Clay.
I woke up with him in my bed almost every morning, and on the ones I didn’t, he would be at my door within seconds of me waking. Classes dragged by, practice always seemed too long, and even happy as I was in my job, I couldn’t wait for the work day to be done, for the interviews and publicity events to end.
I couldn’t wait to be back in his arms.
Every moment he spent unraveling me was ecstasy, my body singing like never before under his symphonic conduction. Just when I thought I’d found my favorite way to have him touch me or fill me, he’d find a new way, something to excite me and surprise me and bring me pleasure not even my books could rival.
And that wasn’t even the best part.
The best moments were when we were wrapped together in the early hours of the morning, talking and laughing and discovering one another more than just physically. Or when we’d have a whole conversation across the crowded practice field with just one single glance. Or when anxiety would start to creep in for one of us, and the other would quickly soothe it with just the right words and a kiss to seal the promise.
“What would you think about coming home with me for Christmas?”