Page 108 of Rune
“But what a way to go,” he said, following me in and closing the little door.
“This is amazing. I can’t believe how much you got done. How many trips up that ladder did you need to do?”
“Eight. Until I remembered that Spike and Cain are basically club servants and made them do some of the trips.”
“Well, it was worth all of them,” I said, moving to lie back as Rune moved in with me. “This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“The bar is too low, baby,” he said, grabbing another blanket and draping it over us. “Comfy?”
“Unbelievably so.”
“Do you want to eat? Watch a movie?”
“Just enjoy it for a while,” I decided.
“We can do that.” He reached for his phone and put a playlist on he’d clearly chosen for the date—all sensual and soft.
Then his arm slid under me, pulling me close as we stared up at the glass ceiling as the moon slid out from behind a cloud for a moment before disappearing again.
It wasn’t long before the closeness and the romantic atmosphere had me turning my head, finding Rune’s face near mine, and pressing my lips to his.
It wasn’t long before the kiss tipped from soft and sweet to something needier, hungrier.
Rune reached for something, hit a button, and blanketed us in darkness just before he rolled me under him.
His own need was just as clear as my own, his hard length pressing against me.
Anticipation sizzled across each nerve ending as his hands and lips explored me, as my own moved greedily over him.
Then our clothes were off, and he was slotting between my thighs. My hips rose to meet his; then he was sliding deep inside with one thick thrust.
It was all sighs and groans and rhythm then as we drove closer and closer to that precipice, the sensations amplified by the exposed feeling, even if there was no way anyone could see anything with how dark it was in the glass room.
“That’s it. Come for me,” Rune groaned with his lips on my ear.
Then I was soaring, sinking, crashing into the pleasure.
He came with me, groaning out my name.
Afterward, we stared up at the stars, sweat drying, hearts slowing back down.
“How about some champagne?” he asked as he sat up.
“I love champagne.”
“Shit,” he said a moment later after yanking his pants into place and reaching into the picnic basket.
“What?” I asked.
“I forgot the flutes.”
“We can drink out of the bottle.”
“Nope. We have to have the flutes. Give me two minutes,” he said, leaning over me to give me a kiss, then yanking open the door, and disappearing down the ladder.
I stayed just like that for a blissful moment or two.
But there was a flash of light that illuminated the glass room.
