Darynda Jones - Sixth Grave on the Edge

She was holding her palm against it, trying to reach out to me, to touch me as I was now touching her. I didn’t materialize. Instead, I started at her wrist and worked my way down, sliding my fingertips along her arm, across her cheek, down her neck, until I lay atop her. She sucked in a breath, her chest rising softly with the action, stirring me to my core. I cupped a breast in my hand, its fullness soft and tantalizing. She moaned underneath me, writhed with pleasure as the friction caused me to harden against her. She was honest to God the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, and I’d seen a lot.

But she stopped. She opened her eyes, their gold depths glittering like water in the moonlight, and concentrated, fighting me mentally, struggling to reverse our positions. I was always the one to leave my physical body and come to her. I gained just as much pleasure from being with her incorporeally as corporeally. But the thought of her doing the same to me caused a jolt of pleasure at the base of my cock. Blood rushed to that general area lightning quick the moment I felt her brush over me.

She sent out her essence, letting the heat from her mental energy explore my body. No one had ever touched me that way. Her essence was warm and smooth like silk. She tested every inch of me, running her fingers over my abdomen, then—almost timidly—around my cock. I gritted my teeth, curled my hands into the sheets as I felt her mouth slide over me, encircling my erection. Her lips glided down, her teeth grazing over the sensitive skin there. But she wanted more. I could feel it. I could allow her to get only so close. To go only so deep. Anything more, and she could see things I didn’t want her to see.

So, I stopped her. I raised a barrier to limit her explorations to those places visible to the naked eye. Then again, it was Dutch I was dealing with, the most powerful of her kind to be born in a millennium. She sharpened her touch, raked her fingernails over my skin, let them bite into my flesh. I bit back a curse.

“Dutch,” I said aloud in warning, but there was no fighting her. She was too powerful, and she broke through my barrier in one quick strike.

Heat penetrated muscle and bone and burst inside me. A feeling I’d never felt before spread through every inch. It was hot, like lava, and burned from the inside out, coursing through my veins, rushing along my nerve endings. She pushed my legs apart and pressed into me, and the pleasure that rocketed through me almost brought me off the bed.

Our energies collided, the friction grinding, causing my hunger to grow stronger with every beat of her pulse. As she caressed me, I caressed her. I felt her energy engulf my cock in long, powerful strokes until I pushed her down and did the same to her. I felt her climax swell like a sea inside her, churning and swirling. I kissed her and sucked her and pushed into her so hard and fast, she burst into a cascade of shimmering lights. The moment she came, I exploded as well. Only I wasn’t really inside her. I wasn’t really on top of her, and I came on my stomach, my jaw clenched, my muscles convulsing with each spasm of pleasure.

When the orgasm died down, I threw an arm over my face and listened to the sound of my own labored breathing. That was one of the most incredible things that had ever happened to me.

I reached out to her again, the enigma that was known across the universe as the daughter of light. “Come sleep with me,” I said.

She didn’t answer, but I could hear her soft sighs as she panted into her pillow. So, I rolled out of bed to clean myself. I could feel her surveying me. I smiled. She kept watch until I crawled back into bed. With exhaustion quickly overtaking me, I repeated, “Come sleep with me.”

I wasn’t sure if she responded or not. Apparently, I fell asleep like I generally fucked—hard and fast—because I didn’t remember anything else until I awoke to an overwhelming feeling of panic coming from Charley’s apartment.