“That doesn’t mean I’m done.”
The sudden emptiness as he pulled out was startlingly unpleasant. Hayden removed the spent condom and tossed it in the trash. I ripped open the new one and passed it to him, too desperate to have him back inside me to do it myself. It took him two tries to roll it on.
He ran a hand gently over my hip and down my thigh, hooking his arm under my left knee. Repositioning himself, he eased back inside. We both groaned at the sensation as he drew my leg up to change the angle.
I started to comment, but he cut me off with his mouth. When I was sufficiently distracted, he began to move again, slow at first and gaining momentum. He sat back on his knees, eyes fixed where we were joined.
“You have no idea—”
He ran his thumb along the exposed base of his shaft, slick skin glistening, and circled my clit in time with his thrusts. And then he was lifting me up, bringing us chest to chest once more, this time with me in his lap. He stayed close, grinding me over him.
I rested my forearms on his shoulders, our lips meeting on every downward stroke. I’d expected him to be untamed, but this was something else, more than I knew what to do with. I looked down, over the expanse of muscle and ink, to watch him enter and leave me. I could feel it then—yet another orgasm slithering its way up my spine.
“Is this what you want?” Hayden asked, his voice like raw silk.
I whimpered, the tendrils of heat sparking to flame.
“What was that?” He cupped my chin gently in his palm, forcing my eyes up to his, all fire and satisfaction.
I tried to nod, but he held me firmly.
“Words, Tenley. Tell me.”
“Yes,” I groaned.
“Yes what?”
“I want you,” I whispered, so close to another release it almost hurt to stave it off. The sensations Hayden invoked were magnified to the point of being alien. Every experience before him paled in comparison. I wanted to feel like this forever.
His smile was lascivious as he lifted me up and settled me over him again, the pace excruciatingly slow but effective.
“Are you going to come again?”
“Yes.” My body shook with the effort to postpone the impending release.
“Hard?” His lips pressed lightly against mine, a gentle counterpart to the inferno rising inside.
And then it was there, rushing through me like a forest fire, incinerating me to ash. My eyes fluttered shut and Hayden growled out a curse. “Look at me.”
I pried my lids open and tried to focus on him. His arm closed around me, and the muscles in his neck stood out in stark relief. In that moment our connection surpassed anything I’d ever known. He wasn’t looking at me, but through me, inside, straight into my soul. And I felt like I was just as much inside him as he was inside me, intertwined and inextricable. I cried out, every nerve ending hypersensitive as the orgasm continued to pulse through me. When it finally abated, Hayden’s hold loosened, his palm moving over my back in lulling circles. His head dropped to my shoulder and I committed the moment to memory: the way he smelled, the feel of his skin, the taste. There was such discord between the sweet and gentle man whispering tender things in my ear and the implacable one who forced me to look at him when I came. I worried about the fallout, about my remorse over pushing him and his potential anger at losing control.
“You all right?” he asked, making no move to break the physical connection.
I nodded into his neck, my lips on his shoulder. “That was intense.”
“Mmm.”
We stayed like that, wrapped in each other for a few more minutes. When heat gave way to cool, I braced myself on his shoulder and lifted off. I hissed at the movement, sharp pain shooting from the hip that had been injured in the crash.
“Did I hurt you?” His hands skimmed over my sides, eyes following the same path, looking for some sign of trauma. He traced the scar that ran from hip to thigh. “How didn’t I notice this before?”
“It’s nothing. I was in an accident a while ago,” I said evasively, giving what I could without revealing too much.
I moved away from him, the ache in my hip echoing in my chest from the lack of connection. The niggling worry spread like an ink spot, bleeding out, staining my insides. I retrieved my shirt from the floor and drew it over my head, suddenly self-conscious. I was about to put my underwear back on when I noticed a faint pink streak on the inside of my thigh. I wasn’t surprised; it had been a long time since I’d been with anyone, and Hayden wasn’t average in any way.