As Miranda began grinding into his hand, Seth couldn’t handle a second more of foreplay. “I need to be in you. Now,” he ordered.
“God. Yes.” She shifted around and grabbed for something on the comforter, a position that put her perfect ass on display and made his mouth water.
She turned back with a condom in her hand. Seth tore it open and had the latex on in a nanosecond, but rather than throw Miranda on the bed, he gripped her waist and spun her around.
“I’m going to fuck you from behind.” He pressed his erection against her ass and rolled his hips.
She responded with a moan and wiggled her cute butt, straining to get closer.
Bending her over the bedframe, he admired the arc of her spine, the flexibility of that dancer’s body. One day they’d have to explore all the delicious positions those flexible limbs of hers had to offer, but tonight, he was too impatient for experimentation.
He slid into her in one fast stroke, filling her to the hilt. Her wet heat surrounded him, her inner muscles clutching him so tightly he realized there was no chance in hell of taking this slow.
“Tell me if I hurt you,” he mumbled, and then he pulled out and slammed right back in, so hard she cried out.
“We have to be quiet, baby.” He ran a soothing hand over the curve of her ass. “You okay? Did that hurt?”
“No. It felt amazing.”
He wished he could see her face, and she must have sensed he needed reassurance because she twisted her head and shot him a faint smile. “I’m serious. I want it hard and rough tonight, Seth.” Her eyes blazed with scorching, needy desire. “Now make me come.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You getting sassy with me, woman?”
“Yep. You got a problem with that?”
“Not in the slightest. Sass turns me on.”
He started to move, gripping her ass as he rammed into her with absolutely no mercy. Each stroke went deep, sending him closer and closer to the edge. The slap of their bodies echoed in the air, accompanied by erratic breathing and Miranda’s soft moans, which grew more and more agitated by the second.
When he saw her hand dart between her legs to rub her clit, he growled and quickened his pace, desperate to feel her pussy clench from her orgasm.
His own release gathered in his balls, but he held off, waiting, fucking her harder, urging her with husky commands to let go. When she came, he felt it in his cock, her muscles clenching and unclenching, milking him so hard that he came without warning. His vision blurred, heart thudding uncontrollably as he lost himself in the mind-shattering sensations.
Eventually he collapsed on her, his sweat-soaked chest sticking to her sweat-soaked back. Groaning, he flung one arm around her chest and climbed up on the bed, then rolled them over so they were spooning.
He was so blissfully content, so utterly sated that his blood was humming and his heartbeat had slowed to a lazy tempo. And maybe that body-numbing release had shorted out his brain and messed with the wiring up there, because that was the only explanation he had for the words that slipped out of his mouth.
“I love you.”
Miranda shifted around in surprise, and when her entire face lit up, he realized a fried brain was not the reason he’d said those words. Not by a long shot.
“I love you,” he repeated.
The light in her eyes shone brighter. She brought a hand to his cheek and gave it a gentle stroke. “I love you too.”
Chapter Nineteen
August
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”
Dylan glanced over at Jen and rolled his eyes. “Would you stop saying that? You sound like a broken record.”
“I’ll stop only when you provide me with a logical explanation for that.” Jen pointed a dainty finger at the frolic fest happening in front of them.
He followed her gaze, and yeah, even he had to admit that seeing Seth horsing around in the pool with Miranda’s children was pretty frickin’ surreal. But unlike Jen and the rest of their friends, Dylan lived with the guy, so he’d had more time to come to terms with Seth’s transformation. If you could even call it that. Truth was, Seth was the same cocky, sarcastic smartass he’d always been. He wisely toned that side of himself down when he was around the twins, but as far as Dylan was concerned, the only differences in Masterson were that he now seemed to like kids, and that he was madly in love with Miranda Breslin.
“She’s right,” Jackson drawled, overhearing Jen’s last remark. “This is weird and unnatural.”