Chapter 23 Twenty three

Chapter 23 Twenty three
REINA’S POV

That night the penthouse felt smaller than usual, the air thick with everything we weren’t saying. After the sofa, after the deep, drugging kisses that left us both trembling, Orion had pulled back with visible effort. His hands had shaken when he lifted me off his lap and set me on my feet. His voice had been low and wrecked when he spoke.

“We stop tempting fate tonight.”

I had nodded, chest tight, body still humming from the friction of his hardness against me. We had stood there for a long moment, foreheads touching, breathing each other in. Then he pressed one last soft kiss to my lips and stepped away.

“Goodnight, Reina.”

“Goodnight, husband.”

I watched him walk down the hall to his room. He didn’t look back. If he had, I wasn’t sure I could have let him go.

My bedroom door closed behind me with a quiet click. I leaned against it for several seconds, heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. My skin felt too tight, too hot. Every place he had touched: my hips, my waist, the small of my back, still burned. Between my legs I was slick and aching, the kind of empty throb that made my thighs press together instinctively.

I stripped out of my clothes slowly, letting the fabric slide over sensitized skin. The nightdress I had worn earlier lay discarded on the floor. Naked now, I crawled under the covers and lay on my back, staring at the ceiling. Moonlight spilled across the sheets in silver stripes.

I closed my eyes.

And I let myself imagine.

Orion’s hands on me again, but this time he didn’t stop. He lifted me against the nearest wall, my legs wrapping around his waist like they had on the sofa, only now there were no clothes between us.

I pictured the rough scrape of his stubble along my throat as he kissed down my neck, teeth grazing my collarbone, then lower. His mouth closed over one nipple, hot and wet, tongue circling slowly while his hand slid between my thighs.

In my mind he groaned against my skin when he felt how wet I was. “So ready for me,” he would rasp, voice thick with want. His fingers would part me, stroking through the slickness, circling my clit with slow, deliberate pressure until my hips bucked against his hand. Then two fingers sliding inside, curling, stretching me while his thumb kept working that tight bundle of nerves.

I whimpered into the dark, my own hand slipping between my legs. I was soaked. My fingers glided easily, mimicking the rhythm I imagined his would take slow at first, teasing, then faster, deeper. I pictured him dropping to his knees, hooking my legs over his shoulders, and putting his mouth on me.

The thought alone made me arch off the bed.

His tongue would be hot and insistent, licking long slow stripes before focusing on my clit with soft, relentless flicks. He would suck gently, then harder, humming against me so the vibration traveled straight through my core.

My fingers moved faster now, circling, pressing, chasing the building pressure. I imagined his big hands gripping my thighs, holding me open, keeping me exactly where he wanted me while he devoured me like he was starving.

My breath came in short gasps. My free hand fisted the sheet. The coil in my belly tightened, tighter, until it snapped.

I came with a choked cry, hips jerking against my hand, thighs trembling. Waves of pleasure rolled through me, sharp and sweet, leaving me limp and panting against the pillows.

But even as the aftershocks faded, the ache didn’t.

I wanted him.

I rolled onto my side, hugging the pillow that still carried a trace of his scent, and tried to sleep.

It took a long time.

ORION’S POV

The bedroom door closed behind me and I leaned against it, forehead pressed to the wood, breathing like I had run ten miles. My cock was so hard it hurt. Every pulse throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

I could still taste her. I could still feel the slick heat of her through our clothes when she ground down on me, the soft needy sounds she made when my tongue brushed hers, the way her fingers had tugged my hair like she couldn’t get close enough.

I walked to the bathroom on unsteady legs and turned the shower to cold. The water hit like needles. I stood under it, hands braced on the tile, willing my body to calm down.

It didn’t.

The cold only sharpened the ache. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her: straddling my lap, lips swollen from my kisses, eyes dark with want, whispering that she loved kissing me.

I saw the nightdress riding up her thighs, the smooth expanse of skin I had barely touched. I imagined stripping it off her, spreading her out on the sofa, and burying my face between her legs until she screamed my name.

My hand wrapped around my cock before I could stop it.

The first stroke was a relief so sharp it made my knees buckle. I leaned one shoulder against the wall, head bowed under the spray, and let myself picture it.

Reina beneath me, legs wrapped around my waist, nails digging into my back. I would take her slow at first, letting her feel every inch as I sank inside her, watching her eyes flutter closed, her lips part on a gasp. Then harder, deeper, until she was arching up to meet every thrust, whispering my name like a prayer.

My hand moved faster. The water pounded against my shoulders. I pictured her coming around me, inner walls fluttering, milking me, her cry muffled against my throat. I imagined following her over the edge, spilling inside her, marking her as mine in the most primal way.

The orgasm hit hard and fast. I bit my forearm to stifle the groan, hips jerking into my fist as pleasure ripped through me. Rope after rope of release painted the tile. My legs shook. My vision blurred.

I stayed there until the water turned icy and my breathing steadied.

Then I turned off the shower, dried off mechanically, and crawled into bed.

The sheets still smelled like her from the night before.

I groaned and rolled onto my stomach, pressing my face into the pillow.

It didn’t help.

I was still hard again within minutes.

Another cold shower.

Another handjob only this time it was slower and more deliberate, drawing it out until I was shaking, until I came so hard my vision whited out.

And still, when I finally collapsed back into bed, the ache lingered.

She was under my skin.

In my blood.

In every breath I took.

I stared at the ceiling in the dark, cock still half-hard against my stomach, heart pounding with something bigger than lust.

I loved her.

And in less than two weeks she would be my wife.

I closed my eyes and prayed for strength.

Because the waiting was going to kill me.

And I had never wanted anything more.