“Brock…” She clung to him as if her life depended on it. “I want more.”
His eyes darkened. He pulled away from her and grabbed his jeans. Her heart sank in disappointment; was he leaving? Rejection washed over her, immediately followed by shame.
And then he pulled something out of his pocket.
She was an idiot.
He glanced up at her, taking in her worried expression. “Jane, I wasn’t leaving. I just don’t think an unplanned pregnancy should be part of this plan.”
She just nodded, feeling too stupid to actually use words.
“Hey, look at me.” He cupped her face. “Only a complete idiot would walk out of this room right now.”
“Which is why it’s so surprising you’re still here,” she teased, finding her voice.
He grinned. “Cute.”
“I thought so.”
His eyes flashed as he tapped the packet against his fingertips, “Now, stop talking so I can keep exploring, because we have all night, and I’m not nearly as tired or hungry as I thought I was.”
“You ate?” she asked, confused.
He glanced down at her naked body. “I had a really, really sweet appetizer.” His mouth found hers again. “But I’m a glutton, and I want the main course.”
Maybe weeks from now she’d regret this.
But now she nodded and whispered. “Then take it.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
He was going to burn in hell for all the things he wanted to do to her…for the things that he was going to do to her.
God, he loved her hips; they fit his hands perfectly. He could spend years getting lost in her curves, in the way she responded with little moans and gasps.
Most of the women he had been with had been older, experienced, jaded, meaning they faked orgasms and screamed so loud you’d think that they were trying to get a part in the next Fifty Shades movie.
Jane’s responses were genuine.
This girl, that had held him at gunpoint, called him old, and laughed when he said he’d clean.
His girl.
Possessiveness washed over him as he slid the condom on and watched her eyes grow big. She was nervous.
“Stay with me,” he whispered as gently as he could, because, really, truth be told, he was dying, dying to be inside her, dying to feel her, dying to watch her fall apart.
She responded with a jerky nod and he cupped her face, capturing her lips again and again. They were red and swollen, and her cheeks were flushed from rubbing against his face.
He had already marked her.
He wanted to howl.
Or at least pounce on her and claim her. It was absolutely primitive, the way that he wanted to make every male in the world aware that she was his.
“Relax,” he soothed. He could feel the tension flowing off her, and he could only assume it was because she felt it, too. He knew this thing between them wasn’t just about sex. These weren’t fleeting emotions that would just go away.
His teeth captured her earlobe before he kissed his way down her neck. Slowly, he pressed himself inside her tight entrance, nearly blacking out as her body bucked off the bed. A moan of pleasure escaped her lips as she hooked her ankles behind his back.
She was scorching.
Burning him inch by inch as he gritted his teeth and kept himself from thrusting completely into her and breaking her in half.
“You’re so…hard.” She exhaled with what he hoped was a satisfied sigh.
“Kind of the point.” He let out a dark laugh. “But glad you approve.”
“I do.” She returned his kiss, grabbing his face, losing complete control as her hips bucked against his.
Brock Wellington was a man of complete control.
A man who knew what was expected of him.
Brock Wellington died in that moment, and was replaced quite possibly with the man he was always supposed to be. Crazed, passionate, slightly drunk on the feeling of the perfect woman in his arms… His destiny felt altered, his world changed.
She met each thrust, her nails digging into his skin as her head fell back against the pillows, her body arching into his, responding, pulling him tighter inside her heat.
Jane let out a gasp as he filled her one last time and stopped—his body throbbing for release.
It was a moment he wished he freeze in time—the look on her face, the feel of her body beneath his, and the absolute certainty he felt in his heart that this was exactly the future he wanted—for both of them.
A future together.
When her eyes opened, he found he couldn’t hold back, not anymore, as with one last thrust she found her release.
His orgasm followed immediately after, and he yelled the first “yes” he’d ever really meant.
For her.
For them.
Brock looked down at Jane, kissed her softly, then smiled.
“What?” She was out of breath. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”
“Because.” He shrugged. “We still have nine days alone, unless you count the animals, but I’m going to be more careful about locking doors from here on out.”