Authors: Cassie Wright

A Lion After My Own Heart (14 page)

And then he shifts his hips, and suddenly, oh, lord, suddenly it does.

Chapter 16

I'm lying on my side, snuggled up against his broad chest, when I feel his cock press against the lips of my pussy. My eyes snap open wide. How? He just came. Most men only come once a night, or if they're real studs, maybe twice, with a good long break in between. I look over my shoulder at Alexander, who grins at me.

"What? Did you think I'd be content with just appetizers?"

"I'm in real trouble," I say. "Aren't I?"

"You have no idea," he whispers, and then moves his hip and presses forward.

My lips resist at first, holding firm, and then they part before his cock head, and with exquisite slowness he slides into my pussy, my slick canal taking him even as he stretches it wide.
He's so big
, I think, bigger than any other man I've ever been with, and somehow I've almost forgotten how large he is from our previous session.

Alexander slows down and lets my body adjust, one hand curling around my body to cup my breast as he pulls me against him. He holds me tight, his other hand taking my chin and pulling my head back so that he can lean down and kiss my neck. With his fingers working my nipple, his tongue on the hollow behind my ear, and his cock sliding ever deeper into me, I feel my grasp on reality slip as sensation overwhelms me.

My whole body is alive under his touch, every nerve ending singing. I can barely breathe. All I can do is move in time with him, undulate my body, rock my hips so that he can go deeper and deeper, stretching me and filling me till all thoughts are driven from my mind.

"Fuck," he grunts, and I feel his hips press against the cheeks of my ass. "That's all of me. You've taken all of me, Myra. My whole cock is buried in you."

And still I want more. Madness seizes me. I don't care if it burns. If it's just one shade shy of uncomfortable. I want all of Alexander Adams. I want him without end. He stops, filling me, my ass pressed tight against his abdomen, my breasts squeezed by his hand, and then his other hand moves down the front of my body and his fingers press between my thighs to find my clit.

I almost shake my head. My mad desire gives way to panic. Too much! His fingertips find my nubbin and begin to touch it lightly, playing with my clitoral hood, working up and down the center of my ecstasy, even as my canal is filled to the brim and my nipples are aching with pleasure.

He begins to gyrate his hips, not in and out but simply
stirring
me in a way I hadn't thought was possible, his cock as hard as granite and working my pussy, rubbing against my every internal ridge, driving me wild.

Alexander breathes into my ear, then traces its curves as he works my clit with masterful magic. My body is burning and I'm in a fever haze, unable to breathe, to think, to do anything more than dance and jerk under his touch. He holds me tight against his perfect body, and stirs and touches and torments and works me until I feel the vast shadow of my orgasm approaching. It's so huge, so powerful that I'm a little afraid of it. It'll destroy me, sweep me away, leave me shattered and broken. And still he works my body, playing me as if I were a sensual violin and his every touch the sweeping pass of a bow.

Then, without warning, he stops gyrating his hips and instead pulls back, almost all the way out, only to push home, unstoppable, his cock head swelling as he goes, in and then out, building up a tempo that I can't handle, can't take, and my orgasm hits.

It sweeps across me like some monster wave, welling up from my very core, blossoming crimson and gold and violet behind my eyes, and I hear the roaring rush of blood in my ears and distantly a rising cry that I realize is mine. And still he fucks me, pushing through my orgasm, inflaming it, driving it on and on and on till my whole body is shaking and spasming.

I'm delirious, but I hear his grunts rise up and become a roar of his own, and he fills my depths with his cum, over and over, the spurting power of it the final push that makes it all too much. I feel my mind rise to a different plane, and everything is pure sensation and ecstasy, the world, the bedroom, my body, the bed, even Alexander fading away, leaving me in the exploding heart of a supernova of pure and utter ecstasy.

I don't know how long it takes me to come back to myself. Minutes? Hours? I flutter my eyelids and realize that I'm being held tightly against Alexander, the heavy comforter thrown over our bodies, our legs intertwined. I lift my head slowly, feeling dazed, and stare at him.

His eyes are half-lidded, his gaze heavy with pleasure and delicious fatigue. "Hey, you."

"What happened?" I whisper.

His grin is wicked. "I put forth my best argument."

"You did?" My thoughts are slow, like mud. I feel warm and content and my whole body is glowing with the magical aftereffects of our lovemaking.

"And?"

I blink. "And?"

"Are you convinced?"

I want to laugh. I want to hit him with a pillow, but when he leans forward to kiss me, all I can do is accept that there is such a thing as bliss, and for once in my life, it's all mine.

Chapter 17

Quitting my job at the
Globe
is the hardest thing I've ever done, but once I've submitted my resignation I feel so ridiculously free. I feel as if I've slipped out of a collar, and no longer have to check my phone every second for fear of losing out on the latest piece of breaking news. No longer do I have to monitor so many sites, blogs, and networks. I'm done. I can stop. I can put my phone away for a whole day, and not miss a beat.

Mercia, my editor, is stunned. She never saw it coming. She goes through the five stages of denial, but in the end she tells me I was her most promising employee, and she thought one day I'd take her place when she steps down. I promise to call her when I come back to Boston for my things so we can have lunch, and we end on the best of terms.

As for that creep of a reporter, McGrant, he has to shelve his entire story and never even bothers to run the photographs he took. I contemplate sending him a snarky note, but in the end I know it wouldn't do a thing. His kind will always exist, ready to make a buck at somebody else's expense.

Money, it turns out, is no problem for Alexander. His family is old and wealthy, and he tells me point blank I don't have to ever work again if I don't want to. I laugh in his face. That way lies madness. Instead, I ask if he's willing to fund the startup of a little local paper, more of a newszine than anything else, with me, little ol' Myra Cole, as the founder and editor-in-chief. He laughs and agrees, and so the
Honeycomb Falls Gazette
is born.

And you know what? Slowing down from the big city life is weird at first - and then heavenly. In the beginning I feel like I'm constantly running late to something, but have no idea what. I keep fighting the urge to check my calendar. To run - somewhere. But inch by inch I relax. I start enjoying long and leisurely breakfasts with my man. Start going for rambling hikes with him through the hills. And what's better, I start making new friends.

Real friends. Rachel and I become super tight after that night. Alexander makes Blake his second-in-command, and as such Rachel and I begin to see a lot of each other. Even though she often feels much older and more mature than I am, I quickly discover that she's secretly young at heart, and when she introduces me to Anita, who owns a bakery in town, I'm set. Anita, Rachel, and Hui (Rachel's maid at Honeycomb Hall) were already best friends, and it's with delight that I join their group and begin meeting them for card games, bakery tastings, and dinners at the Wise Salmon. They're also friends with a variety of wonderful women in town, all of them fun, saucy and bold, and soon I become friends with a local cop, Joanna, and an incredibly talented glassblower named Kiera who works in the Conway Studios across from Alexander's loft.

Slowly, between my new friends and the Gazette, I start to get busy, but I always make sure to make time for the most important thing in my life: my relationship with Alexander.

His withdrawal from the mayoral race caused a huge fanfare, but people moved on quickly enough. The unions picked another man, he paid his aides and supporters an extra three months' wages, and before you knew it, Alexander's entrance into the race became just a footnote in a Wikipedia article.

Instead, he begins to devote all his time to improving local relations between the cairns of Western Mass and the hill towns, calling meetings, setting a new standard, and creating new alliances with the human governments. Tempers are soothed, relations improved, and soon things are better than anybody in the area can remember, going back decades.

And the best part of it all is that each night, he comes home to me. My own lion, royal and powerful and utterly devoted to me. I won't get into how we spend our nights. Suffice to say that I've never been so consistently athletic and worked out. I spend most of my mornings smiling and staring out at nothing at all.

And now I've got the best news in the world to share with him. Our little family is about to grow. Our little world is about to expand in ways I never thought possible, and as I prepare to tell him the news, I look back at my late nights with Mr. Rocky Road in Boston, all alone, my life hooked up to the news cycle. I marvel at just how lucky I am to have run into the man of my dreams, and changing absolutely everything for the better.

Some dreams really do come true.

Epilogue

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