Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1)(39)

Couldn’t. He was lost in it. Swept away. Noah was aware, through the pounding roar in his ears, that his fingers were sunk too deep into the smooth roundness of her hips. Hard enough to bruise. He’d promised not frighten her, to be gentle. To not be the latest scary dickhead parading through her life.

But he’d never had sex with AVP raging before. It rode him hard, and did not care about the vows he’d made to himself. He couldn’t stop now if she were begging him to, if the sky were falling. His body was locked into frantic motion as he sensed where she needed to go, and pursued it. Ferociously.

He was no better than the psycho tool that Midlands tried to turn him into. They hadn’t been able to control him with meds or implants. Nothing could, except for massive knock-out drugs. Or chains.

Or euthanasia. Their final solution. He’d been scheduled for disposal, like a rabid dog. A waste of food, a failed investment, like the rest of his Midlands rebels. Almost all of them had been on the discard list. Examples of gene vectoring gone wrong.

He’d somehow convinced himself that he could prove them wrong and regain self-control. But he was losing it now.

The memory intensified the red haze of fury generated by the AVP. Twelve years of struggle every day and night to find his balance, his control. Now, f*cked in an instant, with his dick slamming heavily into her, getting harder and longer with every aggressive stroke. Gleaming a hot, angry red. Her rich smell maddened him.

He’d been hijacked by AVP. The wild buzz of combat programming, channeled into sex. Scary combination. Caro was vulnerable, fragile. She’d trusted him, and look how he was treating her. Jesus.

She let out shocked, whimpering gasps at every deep stroke. Having the lights on made it worse. Light was a constant AVP stimulus, amplifying the feedback loop in his mind. He stared hungrily at every pink detail of her slick, flushed folds, clasping him, shiny and luminous. Her hot sea smell. Sweat stung his eyes. He was shoving her forward by the force of each thrust, her face pushed in the pillows, her throaty cries muffled but not by much. Her sig was crazy now, her colors blinding, incandescent.

And he came. Oh God.

The mountains did a vast, slow-motion lift-off into the sky . . . and fell back down on top of him. A thousand tons of broken rock.

He floated back, disoriented. Limp, soaked with sweat. His throat was dry, from panting. The thickness in his throat indicated that he’d been shouting. Who knew what.

He wanted to remember. The effort was beyond impossible.

Caro’s lithe body vibrated beneath his. He’d collapsed onto her, still rammed deep inside her. Still stone hard. Pulsing with aftershocks.

He was too big to stay on her, weigh her down. Let her breathe.

He lifted himself, felt her inhale. She lay there, flattened on her belly, cheeks flushed poppy red. A flower that had been beaten down to the earth by rain.

But her sig glowed around her, soft and diffuse. It looked happy.

He rolled to his side, fumbling for the cover. Pulled it up over her. Best he could do. It wasn’t cold, after sex that hot. But the AVP hadn’t totally burned away what gentlemanly gallantry he could lay claim to.

He got up and headed to the bathroom to get rid of the condom. When he returned, Caro rolled over and watched him as he grabbed another one from the bedside drawer. He suited up again, hard as rock. It had been forf*ckingever, and no woman had ever wound him up like Caro did. She gazed, nonplussed, at his unflagging hard-on before he dimmed the light to make the AVP ease down.

“Seriously?” she said, with a quick smile. “After that?”

“Yeah. Just won’t quit.”

Her mouth curved in a quick smile. “I see that.”

“You OK?” he asked. “I got a little carried away.”

“Absolutely fine,” she assured him. “It was intense. But great.”

“Did I scare you?” He hoped not.

“Not at all.” She propped herself up and brushed dark wavy ringlets off her face.

Data scrolled in his head as he assessed her. She didn’t seem traumatized. He pulled down the cover and clambered onto the bed, settling between her legs.

She looked startled. “Uh, Noah—”

“Just let me look,” he coaxed. “I was a little too rough with you. I lost control. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. I told you I was OK. Why don’t you just believe me?”

“Maybe I just need an excuse to put my face between your legs. Stop wiggling.”

“But—”

“Shhh. I’m concentrating.” And so he did, holding her graceful thighs wide open, staring at her muff. He needed no light to see every detail. He lost himself in rapt, horndog contemplation. She looked beautiful. Hot and rosy and f*ckable.

Temptation overwhelmed him. He spread her lips gently with his fingers, holding them open, and thrust his tongue deep into her.

She cried out in startled pleasure, arching. She was so lithe and strong. Noah stilled her with his hand, resting it on her belly until she lay back with a gasp of fresh pleasure and submitted to his hungry lavish licking.

He lapped upward, trailing his tongue lazily over her slit up to the hood of her clitoris, caressing the taut, pearly bud with his lips and assessing how her sig reacted. A hot pink glow edged with violet pulsed with delight as he tongue-f*cked her. Oh, yeah. More of that. Give it to him. He got back to the clit, suckled it. Long, gentle pulls. She convulsed, with a gasp. He could do this for hours. Cheerfully.