Throne of Truth

Page 70

Her legs wrapped tight around my hips as I continued thrusting faster, harder, deeper.

“Come, Elle. I need you to come.”

A tortured moan trickled from her lips. Her hands landed on my shoulders, locking onto an anchor so I could take her deep into pleasure and know she could find her way back.

I felt her release in her back first.

She gasped as the first surge worked from her shoulder blades and down her spine. Her stomach tightened, her muscles trembling as the breaking orgasm fisted and milked me inside her. Her legs scissored, fighting the onslaught, but it was too late.

One wave, two waves, three, four, five. On and fucking on, she came, giving me no choice but to join her.

“Holy shit.” My climax made my eyes water. It squeezed my balls until I groaned in pain mixed with pleasure. My quads cramped. My cock spurted everything it could into the girl I would never let go.

We jolted in each other’s arms as the last dregs of our orgasms left us boneless and breathing hard.

With the softest smile, Elle curled into me, pressing kisses to my chest, wrapping her arms around my neck.

I thought I’d loved her before that. Before she showed such vulnerability, such trust, such affection.

I was wrong.

My heart swelled until it no longer fit inside me. All the mess, the lies, the uncertainty in our future couldn’t steal how fucking happy I was with my body inside hers and her kisses forever imprinted on my soul.

Brushing my fingertips over her temples, cheeks, to her jaw, I tipped her head up so I could look at her. “I hate this. Being in here. Forced to stay away from you when I need you so damn much.”

“I know. But you’re innocent. They’ll see that soon. And then you’re coming home with me.”

I kissed her puffy sex-swollen lips not agreeing or disagreeing because as much as I hoped she was right...

I had no idea if it would come true.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Elle

THREE TIMES FOR almost three months.

The second was in the shower with tepid water and threadbare towels, but my two toe-curling orgasms shattered the record for all other showers, making it the best I’d ever had.

The third was lazy and sleepy, under the covers half-awake, half-dreaming, my back wedged to Penn’s front, his cock slipping between my legs and filling me effortlessly.

We’d fallen asleep with him still inside me.

And for the first time in years, I slept soundly in his arms. We didn’t have time to talk or share things we needed to know. We’d depleted ourselves by showing our love in physical form before the beauty of touch could be stolen from us.

Our bodies reacquainted, our hearts pattered to the same rhythm, our minds synced into one frequency.

At seven a.m., our wake-up call came in the form of a prison guard carrying a tray of scrambled eggs and over-cooked bacon with a cup of chocolate-covered strawberries.

To have breakfast served in bed in jail would forever remain one of the most random experiences of my life.

We stayed where we were. Unapologetic and tangled together beneath black sheets.

The utensils were plastic, the crockery had seen better days, and the strawberries were slightly over-ripe, but it was the best breakfast we’d ever had.

Who knew the Department of Corrections would forever hold a fond place in my heart as well as the most hated?

We didn’t dally over eating, our anxiety levels steadily increasing with every tick of the clock. Our twelve hours were almost over. I would be forced to leave. Penn would be forced to say goodbye.

Tears filled my eyes at the thought.

I couldn’t do it.

I didn’t have the capacity to walk away from him not knowing when we’d next be together.

“Elle, don’t.” His finger caught a tear, rubbing it into my cheeks as if it’d never existed. His fingers smelled of chocolate and berry, adding a flavor to the already familiar one associated with him. It reminded me of the night he brought chocolate mousse to my apartment and took me on the couch. It granted so many memories eternally tangled with him.

“You can’t.” His handsome face with soulful eyes and sharp jawline fractured with truth. “I won’t be able to say goodbye if you cry.”

Another tear escaped.

Tilting my chin, he licked it away then brought his mouth to mine.

We kissed long. We kissed slow. We kissed to last us however many months until the next time we could.

Pulling away, a mischievous smile spread his lips. “You know...we have time for one more.”

“Lucky number four, huh?”

I was sore. I was achy. I didn’t care in the slightest. I’d keep going forever if it meant I could keep him with me and not hand him back to the guards.

He nodded, springing from the bed and yanking me into a kneeling position. “I think four is a good number, don’t you?” Grabbing me around the waist, he hoisted me from the mattress and planted me against the wall.

The cold concrete bit into my bare ass, but I didn’t care at all as his lips found mine again and kissed me hungrily, violently—as if he could eat me for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I’d never have to leave him.

His cock pressed against my belly, grinding into me with unashamed sensual insanity. His hands slid down my body, cupping my ass as he lifted me up and I automatically wrapped my legs around his hips.

Any second, a guard would come to remove me. Any moment, this would all be a dream. But I couldn’t think about that as Penn angled himself and sank inside me, inch by devouring, delightful inch.

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