Storm: Book 2 by Evelyn Rosado Page B

like the world would shatter if he stopped. I don’t care if the world did crumble, as long as he didn’t stop.
    My lips crush against his chin, jaw, neck…any and everywhere on his skin, urgent to melt into him to fill the emptiness within me. He lifts up, freeing my hands from his back and grabs my wrists and pin them over my head on the pillow. He mounts my slick body again and rests his palms on top of mine and intertwines our fingers. Our fingers fold tightly on each other’s. My pussy throbs at how demanding and aggressive he is. I clench my sweaty, quaking thighs around his lower back, coiling to him like a python. I can’t let him go. I won’t.
    He groans. He burrows into me with slow, shallow strokes. I buck my hips into him and writhe under his teasing. He nibbles my earlobe and I shudder and whimper with each tiny bite. He laughs under his breath. I untangle my fingers from him. I can’t take it—the teasing is too much. I sink my nails into his lower back and ram his torso into me, striking me to my core. We moan simultaneously. The bed shrieks violently. His gaze meets mine and he pauses, seemingly taken aback by my forcefulness.
    I grab his face by his neck and cheeks and scream, “Chase don’t tease me…fuck me.” With no hesitation, he spears through me like a lightning bolt splitting a tree. I palm the top of his ass with both hands bracing myself as he plows into me, each thrust more savage. He moans at the top of his lungs and my pussy is pulsing so rapidly I can’t breath, I can’t think. I get lost in the sensation. I can feel myself at the brink of my orgasm. The feeling builds slowly in my legs. I’m powerless under him, I scream, urging him to bring me to the first climax of my life. My entire body shakes, giving in to the intense thrust of his cock.
    “Come for me Brynn,” he shouts, the veins in his neck straining, holding me tightly in his arms. I feel his heart thundering. Mine too. I match the rhythm of stroke and he grabs a handful of my damp hair.
    “Yes! Chase!” My voice is raw and ravenous. “Fuck! I’m coming. Ohgodohgodohgod…Oh my fucking God, I’m coming!” I scream with every ounce of air in my lungs. My body jerks violently and my pussy quakes shooting currents of pleasure though every nerve of my body. He groans loudly.
    “It feels so fucking good!” he yells. His body seizes and his cock stiffens and vibrates deep within me, spilling his come into the latex. He collapses on top of me and I carom his limp body into my arms.
    “Hey,” I say, my voice cracking slightly.
    “Hey,” he says, totally spent.
    We look at each other, silent. In the distance, I hear the shower still running. “So are you ever gonna turn the shower off?” I ask. We burst into laughter. Our sweat mixes. Our breaths mix. With dry lips I peck his face as we let the blanket of bliss drift us away into light slumber.
     

Chapter 2
    I lie hypnotized by his warmth. He swirls his finger—his knuckles still scarred from that fateful Friday—on top of my shoulder blade where a scar rests from the time that Rosemary Louis double dog dared me to leap off the swings in the fourth grade.
    “Your scar is beautiful,” he says, his voice velvety. I can feel its warmth against my moist skin.
    “I think you’re the first person I’ve ever heard say a scar is beautiful,” I say.
    “I’ve learned to see the beauty in all things. Even the shit that people normally don’t see beauty in.”
    “Like what? Are you taking a philosophy course or something?”
    “Like pain or struggle.”
    I pause and think about it for a second. “I don’t get it. There’s nothing beautiful about pain.”
    “You don’t get to become a butterfly without being a caterpillar first.”
    “That’s so corny,” I say laughing slightly.
    “Just listen. There’s nothing beautiful about a caterpillar. It’s ugly, slow, nobody marvels at it like they do fireflies or ladybugs. It goes into a cocoon, away from the