Purple Haze (Blue Dream Book 2) by Unknown

My everything. Gratitude pushes another kiss onto her neck.
     
    “More,” she begs and I change the tempo from mellow to sharp. There's a shift of her weight followed by her nails digging into my skin. “God, yes...”
     
    Relentless in my pursuit to make her come, I thrust harshly, doing everything I can to prove my dedication to pleasing her. With hope that fact will transfer out of sex I continue groaning softly, balls threatening an upcoming betrayal.
     
    “Coming,” Presley howls.
     
    I lift my head to see hers thrown back with abandonment. Lost in the elation of her pussy milking me and the priceless vision of her trembling in pleasure from something I did, it almost doesn't register that I'm coming too. However the intensity of my release buckles my knees. The woman I've never stopped loving tosses her arms around my neck to save me from collapsing. To protect me.
     
    Relief her instincts still match mine, I softly smile. “Only thing I've wanted all day.”
     
    She teases, “To come inside me?”
     
    A lightly laugh escapes. “To be back in your arms.” When her smile transitions to a heartfelt one I question, “We should probably get cleaned up and talk, huh?”
     
    To my surprise, Pres shakes her head. “What do you say we post pone talking one more night?”
     
    Knowing it's not the best idea, but thankful all the same, I playfully ask, “And dinner? You're gonna get hungry for more than me...eventually.”
     
    My cockiness causes a snicker. “There's always drive-thrus.”
     
    We laugh this time together seconds before we reconnect our anxious lips.
     
    After an extended sentence in the most treacherous, desolate prison, it's hard to deny my sanity it's first real crumb of serenity. The sparks to what most would consider an arbitrary addiction have been rekindled. If we don't handle this with better care there will be much more than scorch marks left on my soul. I honestly don't think I could learn to survive without her again. I damn sure don't want to.
     

Presley
     
    I fold my hands together and let out another deep exhale. I can do this. I can talk to Ryder. I can listen to him. I can do more than find a way to get naked and on top of him. But God do I love to do both of those frequently...
     
    After a polite thanks to the waitress for delivering my glass of water, I look out the local diner window at the passing cars.
     
    We should've talked last night. He offered. There was a perfect opportunity, but what did I do instead? Jump into bed with him like some deprived virgin getting her first taste of sex. Even after hours of orgasms, there were moments it felt like it was my first time. The intensity. The tenderness. The uncontrollable enchantment. It's impeccable as much as it is horrifying the hold he still has on me.
     
    Suddenly, Ryder slides into the booth seat across from me wearing a large smile and his uniform shirt. “Good afternoon, baby.”
     
    Memory lane has managed to merge with the highway of my future. He says that word and I'm incapable of denying it. Denying that I'm his. That I've always been his and always will be.
     
    I offer him a soft one in return. “Good afternoon.”
     
    His eyes dip down to the button up dark purple shirt I had to change into after he tore the buttons off the black one. The memory alone pushes my thighs together and heats my cheeks.
     
    Sensing my arousal he lowers his voice. “We should talk but...”
     
    Desire to continue to overwork my muscles flickers through me. Letting him consume the crumbs of what's left of me from our morning session has ran through my mind multiple times today, but so has a river of questions. Quickly I push it away and say, “No buts this time, Ryder. I've got a 2 o'clock meeting.”
     
    He nods and backs off. His body slinks down against the booth seat demonstrating the egg shells he's willing to walk on to keep me here. The action is better than any impressively articulated speech. “I got it. No