Shine Not Burn

I had no idea what he was talking about. All I knew was that a monster tidal wave of an orgasm was headed my way, and I was fully prepared and looking forward to drowning in it. The alcohol should have made this impossible; it should have made me insensitive and numb, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect. Or maybe it was just him. I’d never been with a man so amazingly sexy in all my life.

His strokes came harder and stayed deeper. My sensitive nub took the pounding of his body with pleasure. I welcomed it, meeting his every thrust with one of my own. Our rhythm was wild, untamed, raw … a completely new experience in my carefully scripted life. His grunts and gasps of barely controlled excitement mirrored my own rising tide of passion.

“Oh, fuck, I’m going to come,” he said, sounding angry and carried away by his lack of control.

It was a combination of his loss of control and the sensation of being filled with him that did it to me. The sensations that had been building rushed me all at once, taking me completely by surprise. I started yelling, crying, and gasping, with zero control over what my body was doing. I dug my fingernails into his back, not paying attention to what I was doing to his skin. I just didn’t want to fall into the dark abyss that was calling out to me, worrying that once I was there, I’d never be able to get back. Mack would keep me safe. He’d keep me from drowning.

And then, when he shouted loudly and pushed into me with several short, sharp strokes, I fell; I fell into the velvet darkness that was swirling around inside my head. The sensation was entirely welcome. With this man filling me and pleasing me with every inch of his body, I had no other option.

Time stood still as we took the thrilling ride to the very top and then coasted down to earth again. The clock only began to tick again when our orgasms had totally played out.

Our bodies had melded together; I could feel every inch of him, even as he lost some of his hardness. He collapsed on top of me and rested his face on the pillow next to my head.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, the small wisp of his breath tickling my ear.

I nodded, not trusting my voice to work properly yet.

He pushed into me just a little.

I yelped with the shock that went through me.

He chuckled. “A little sensitive?”

“A little,” I admitted, wondering if I should be ashamed about anything I’d done. I didn’t think so. Anything that felt this good couldn’t possibly be wrong.

Weird feelings rose up to smother me. My life plan felt really, really stupid and empty. This man would never fit into it, but now I wondered how I could ever go back to guys like Luke when I knew they could never make me feel this way.

Feeling his heavy body on mine, wallowing in the afterglow of the best sex I’d ever had, I questioned for the first time what the hell I was doing with my life. I tried to laugh at myself, having these thoughts during a one-night stand in Vegas, but the humor wouldn’t come. This was real. This connection with this cowboy wasn’t just a thing.

“What are you thinking right now?” he asked, sliding off to the side of me, his mostly limp cock sliding out of me and resting damply on my leg. He pulled the used condom off and put it on a piece of paper on the nightstand.

“Nothing. My brain isn’t working yet.” Hell-to-the no way was I going to tell him what was on my mind. He’d run for the hills and I’d never see him. Do I want to see him again? Yes. I think I do. No, I know I do.

“You’re lying,” he said, running a finger gently from my forehead to the end of my nose. “I can tell by the way you wrinkle up your little nose that you’re lying. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Oh, so I’m Pinnocchio now?” I tried to play it off, distract him from trying to get inside my head, but he wasn’t falling for it.

“Please tell me.”

He sounded so sincere, it made my heart skip a beat. How could a guy that good in bed and this gorgeous be so nice? Doesn’t it defy the very laws of Nature? Maybe he was an evolutionary mutant. I turned my head, our faces only an inch or two apart. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because. I’m thinking lots of stuff too, and I’m wondering if you’re thinking the same thing.”

“You go first,” I said, my heart picking up its rhythm for some stupid reason. No way were we thinking the same thing. But wouldn’t it be cool if we were?

“Luceo non uro,” he said. “That’s what my dad always said.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, pretty sure that even though I was still pretty drunk, he wasn’t speaking English.

“It means that if I want to get lucky with you, I should just take the risk and tell you what’s on my mind, because failing would be worse than never trying.”

I grinned. “I’m pretty sure you already got lucky, but if you’re looking for kinky sex, you’re going to have to work to convince me it’s a good idea.” For him, I was pretty sure I’d do anything, but there was no way I was going to make it that easy by just telling him.