Mayhem (Mayhem #1)

Adam crawls back over top of me, his hair tickling my cheeks until his lips are a breath away. I trace a fingertip over the Magic 8 Ball tattoo inked on his pectoral before sliding my fingers over his sides, relishing in the freedom to finally touch him wherever and however I want.

“What are you waiting for, Peach?” Adam asks, and I never get to one. I kiss him fiercely, and he moans against my mouth. His hips rock against me, and I moan right back. His fingers thread into my hair, his elbows weigh into the pillow under my head, and he kisses me until I can’t think straight. I’m writhing beneath him, needing so much more of him than he’s giving me.

I reach between us to unbutton his jeans and then I push them as low as I can manage. My thumbs hook into his boxers, but then Adam pulls out of my reach. He rests his forehead against my chest, breathing heavily. “Peach, we don’t have to go all the way right now. I swear to God I just wanted to kiss you.”

I comb my fingers through his hair, knowing he doesn’t want to push me. But this feels right, so right, and I need him to understand how ready I am.

“I wouldn’t have regretted it,” I say, and his beautiful eyes gaze up at me from beneath thick, dark lashes. “Last night . . . you told me I’d regret it, but I wouldn’t have . . .” I swallow the lump in my throat, distracting myself by brushing his soft hair away from his forehead with my fingertips. My gaze finds his again, and I muster the courage to say, “I want it to be you, Adam . . . I’m yours if you want me.”

When he kisses me this time, it’s different. It’s slow and soft, but it makes me just as dizzy. He finishes taking his jeans and boxers off, and then he pulls a condom from his wallet and rolls it on. When his tip presses firmly against me, I suck his tongue into my mouth to draw him in. A moan rumbles low in his chest, but then he wrestles control away from me, nipping at my tongue and lips until I’m soaking wet with want for him.

“Peach,” he says, and I open my lust-filled eyes to stare up at him. “Ask me why I want you.”

He wanted me to ask him this last night, but I was too scared. I’m still scared—I’m freaking terrified—but I trust him. He said he wouldn’t hurt me, and I know he won’t. “Why do you want me, Adam?”

With one hand holding himself up and the other tenderly brushing his thumb beneath my ear, he stares down at me and answers, “Because I love you.”

His lips follow his words, kissing me hungrily as his hips press forward. A sharp sting breaks between my legs, and I gasp against his mouth and dig my fingers into his shoulders. Adam pauses, pulls back, and then kisses me so insistently that all I can feel is his lips bruising mine. The pain between my legs ebbs, replaced by the overwhelming crush of his lips, and he rocks back into me, a little farther this time while my fingers scratch between his shoulders. He continues easing in and out of me until he’s buried all the way inside and I’m able to loosen my hold on him.

“Are you okay?” he pants, but I’m still lost in the three words he said before he broke the last barrier between us.

“You love me?” I ask, happy tears welling in my eyes.

The concern on Adam’s face is replaced with a warm smile. “More than anything.”

He kisses me until the entire room is swirling with heat, and then he resumes rocking, the sting inside me gradually overwhelmed by sensations that leave me whimpering sounds of pleasure into the shell of Adam’s ear. His soft lips explore every inch of my body—my mouth, my chin, my neck, my breasts—until the flood inside me starts welling again, threatening to burst all around him.

I hold him so tightly that I’m surprised he can even move, but his hips are relentless. Our hearts pound against each other and sweat beads across our skin, and Adam thrusts into me over and over again, nibbling at my ear as I plummet over the edge. I call out his name as I fall, and the sexiest sound of surrender rumbles in his chest as he follows me over. His body grows heavier against me with each thrust, and I hold him tight against me, my pulsing matching his throbbing while I struggle to catch my breath.

When Adam lifts onto his elbows to stare down at me, I’m barely holding back tears. I thought I had loved Brady, but that was the love of a girl who barely knew herself. She didn’t know what she wanted out of life, and she didn’t know what she was capable of. My love for Brady was born of sacrifice—sacrificing my own goals for his, my own needs for his, my own self for him. With Adam, we’re both willing to give each other everything.

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