Neon Blue by E Frost (best big ereader .TXT) 📕

against me, all hot, silky skin against my rear, and then he’s entering me, thick and full and oh my God so hard. I collapse onto the bed and it’s only his strong hands on my hips that hold me up as he begins to thrust. He glides in and out, rubbing all the way from my opening to my core and back again. That’s so good. I arch my back. He slides deep, deliciously deep, and I clench around him. He works himself in tight circles, stimulating me everywhere with the thick ridge of his glans, while I writhe under him.

He pulls out, then suddenly pounds into me, slamming our bodies together. I scream with surprise, and then with release as his wild motion hurtles me straight over the edge. He follows me a moment later, grunting my name. His weight comes down on me and crushes me into the mattress.

When I can breathe again, still a little dazed, I reach back and pat him on the hip. “Wow, Jou.”

He lifts his head from where he’s breathing hard into my hair. “Who’s Jou?”

Shit. He doesn’t know who he is. I hate this part. I wriggle under him. “Let me up.”

“No.” His weight shifts. His heavy hand descends on my shoulder, keeping me pinned to the bed. “Where are we?”

“We’re in my bedroom. Everything’s okay. You’re safe.” Although this is beginning to feel very not safe to me. Having him hold me down while we were going at it was sexy; having him hold me down while he doesn’t remember anything is a little scary.

“Who are you?”

“Tsara.” Why doesn’t he know who I am? He knew last time. “Can you get off of me now? This is creeping me out.”

He strokes his hand down my back. That feels better than him holding me down. “I like you where you are.” He shifts, sliding his thigh over mine, and his movement makes me realize he’s still inside me.

Okay, that’s beyond enough.

“Jou, get out of me. I’m not kidding around. You’re freaking me out.”

“Huh?” He sighs heavily. Rubs his hand up and down my back; shifts his hips so I can feel him slide inside me. “I like that where it is, too.”

I don’t mind it where it is. Now that he’s not so hard, it’s comfortable, and it would be sexy and sweet to be connected during the afterglow, if his amnesia hadn’t totally ruined it.

“Jou, please?”

He leans down and kisses my temple, then withdraws from me and shifts to the side. I roll so I can look at him, bunching the covers around me. Having him see me naked when he doesn’t know who I am is kind of freaky, too.

He doesn’t seem concerned about a stranger seeing him naked. He lies across my bed, his back to the headboard. The pale moonlight filtering through the curtains renders his golden skin in shades of gray, strokes shadow along his jaw and under his chin, down the dip between his chest muscles and over the contours of his stomach, taut even in relaxation. I touch his belly tentatively. Circle the indentation of his belly-button with my forefinger. I know he’s slightly ticklish there.

He chuckles. Catches my hand and guides it lower, down the trail of hair on his belly and into the thicket at his groin. His body hair is black and in the moonlight, his pubic hair looks like ink. I spear my fingers through it, white against black, and enjoy the contrast.

“Tsara,” he rolls my name around on his tongue. “How well d’you know me?”

I stop messing around with his groin. As soon as my fingers stop moving, something wet and warm brushes them. His nethertongue. That’s extremely freaky, even if it feels amazing during sex. “Um, pretty well, I guess.”

“You my seggurach? ‘Cause I can’t feel you in my head. But I can, mmm, taste you.”

Back to this. Even when he doesn’t remember anything. And whose stupid idea was it for him to stay out of my mind for a whole day? I didn’t have to explain anything when he was in my head. “That’s still up for discussion.”

“You my whore?”

“Your what?” I snatch my hand back like he’s burned me.

“My hlore—”

“I heard you the first time. No, I am not your whore. Fuck, Jou. Great selective memory loss you have there. You can’t remember who you are or who I am, but you can remember what a whore is—”

He reaches for me, but I pull away from him and grab the blankets up around me. He really doesn’t get to see me naked after calling me a whore.

“Tsara,” he growls, and I freeze, because his growl is scary when he doesn’t remember anything. “Stop that. Whatever name you put to it, you’re mine. I can feel it. So stop hidin’ from me.” He pulls he blankets away and gathers me to him.

“We won’t be putting that name to it,” I say. “Not ever again.” I don’t resist him, because I don’t want to give him an incentive to overpower me. Not when he was just so aggressive during sex. But I don’t relax into him the way I usually would, either.

“Maybe that ain’t the right word,” he offers softly, stroking my hair.

“No, it definitely isn’t.”

“You are human, though, ain’t you? You smell human. Your power tastes human.”

“What do humans smell like?” I ask, still miffed but slightly curious.

“Juicy.” He takes a deep sniff of my hair. “Mmm, rich. Meaty.”

Gross. “Okay, well, yes, I am human.”

“An’ you’re bound to me but you ain’t my seggurach.”

And I’m never going to be at the rate he’s going tonight. “Can we drop this? I’m tired.” I’m not fatigued, but this conversation is exhausting. “Will you remember this when we wake up?”

“Dunnow, will I?” he asks into my hair.

“I think so. If you do, can you come back into my mind when you wake up? I really don’t like this.”

“Sure.” He pulls the covers over both of us, although I don’t really