Page 56 of Kill Me Again: Psychics

“I was thinking,” Lake murmured, “that this mind-reading thing might have some advantages.”

“How so?”

“I can talk to you.”

I frowned. “You can talk to me, anyway.”

He smiled against my skin as he kissed his way down my chest. “Not when my mouth is full, I can’t.”

“Oh.”

I understood just before he swallowed me, once again showing his impressive lack of a gag reflex.

“You taste so good.”

When he glanced up, lips stretched around my cock, I nodded to show I’d gotten it loud and clear. Thoughts poured from him after that, most of it dirty talk that told me how much he enjoyed sucking my cock. The danger of mind-reading during sex was catching stray thoughts. Nothing was more off-putting than someone considering whether they needed to buy milk while getting down to it. Lake’s thoughts never wavered. He focused entirely on me, on giving me pleasure.

When he wondered if I liked something, I told him. When he thought about fingering me while sucking me off, I encouraged him, and then told him how good it felt. Having permission to be in his head like that created an intimacy that went far beyond sex.

He pulled off before I came, and we switched positions. I rolled a condom onto him and added lube, his gaze dark and hooded. “Thank you for the bed,” he said.

I climbed astride him. “I thought we established I had an ulterior motive.”

“Even then?”

“I threw myself at you the night we met. What more proof do you need?”

“You thought it was expected.”

“Maybe. But I still found you incredibly attractive. I just had to get Glenn out of the way.”

Lake ran his hands up my chest, thumbs circling my nipples in a way that had me arching my back. “Glenn was never competition. I stopped seeing him because of you.”

“I know.” I’d long since plucked that thought from his head. “Should I feel bad that I messed things up for you? Maybe you would have been happy together.”

“Maybe.” He steadied my hips as I lowered myself onto him, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my hole. “But who says we won’t be happy?”

I paused on the brink of taking him inside, pondering the likelihood of that. “I’m not sure I know how anymore.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Lake said earnestly.

“What if we can’t?”

“We will. However long it takes.”

“Don’t make me cry during sex.” I was only half joking, Lake’s tenderness causing a tangible pressure in my chest. Bracing my hands on his chest, I slid down an inch, letting the slight sting of pain as he breached me redirect my focus from emotion to more immediate concerns.

“Look at him. So fucking gorgeous while he’s taking my cock. I’m so fucking lucky.”

I turned my head to hide a smile in my shoulder under the guise of it being an itch. If he thought that now, wait until I rode him so hard he was begging to come. “Ready?” I asked once I was fully seated.

It was a rhetorical question, the throbbing cock in my arse coupled with the sheen of sweat on Lake’s skin characteristic of a man who’d never been more ready to fuck.

We started slow, finding our rhythm, sometimes combining fucking with kissing, Lake meeting me halfway. The pace built until I was riding him hard, Lake groaning as he thrust deep and bottomed out.

“I don’t want to come before him. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“Not a competition,” I gasped. “There’s no first and second prizes.”