No time to cry
She wasn’t sure if he was careful because Rusp had been rough or because he needed to go slow because he felt so intensely. When he entered her, still on top of the table, it was in gradual increments. She experienced every inch of his tender invasion and reveled in it. When he reached his end, she basked in the complete joining all the more for having so thoroughly experienced it.
They lay quiet for a long while. Sherv gazed into her eyes, his hair curtaining their faces. They might have been the only two people in existence. Irene’s fingertips traced his features, committing him to touch as well as sight. The arched brows over his large, mesmerizing eyes. The sculpted cheekbones. The nose that was a hair from being too big, but lent it character. The strong chin. The well-shaped lips begging to be kissed.
She memorized him, in pieces and as a whole. She saw the strong man and the sensitive soul housed in him. She verified how she loved him, feeling it as thoroughly as she had with Rusp.
It was darkly funny to have discovered the great goal of humans since time’s beginning: perfect love. It was as stupendous and earthshaking as the romantics claimed. It was also soul shattering, the harshest sentence fate could possibly pass. Irene had no idea how she was supposed to survive leaving them behind. She doubted she could.
Sherv began to move at last, slow and easy. She rocked along, meeting his leisurely thrusts, grinding deliberately so electric thrills woke and chased through her. They writhed on the table in sinuous accord. Their kisses were unhurried tastings rather than desperate devouring, but they fed from each other just the same. There was no nuance Irene didn’t mark: the way the crease between his brows deepened as passion grew, the hard planes of his chest against hers, how he repeated motions when her breath caught.
They climbed passion’s peak bit by bit, pausing when they noted they’d gone too far, too fast. Insistent bliss jabbed Irene, begging to be unleashed, but she set it aside in favor of extending the journey. She was in no hurry to reach her destination, and Sherv apparently wasn’t either.
The only reason she knew she wept was thanks to the tears tickling her skin as they escaped. Sherv collected them with kisses. She felt the sadness that brought them, but she concentrated on the perfection of joining. There would be plenty of time to cry later.
Releasing June 23. Now available for pre-order at Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Smashwords, and in print. (Print is already on sale)
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