His eyes move up and lock with mine, so green they look like fresh grass as they devour me. A tiny tick curls one side of his mouth before he pushes back to stand, drops his jeans, and kicks them to the side.
I sit up to my elbows and drink in a naked Blake: broad shoulders that cut into an equally wide chest and tapered abs that flow into the tight vee that leads to—wow. I bite my lip and push from my elbows to my hands; my mouth waters to taste him. He sees my hunger, recognizes it for what it is, and steps closer so that his knees hit the bed. I scoot, hang my legs over the edge straddling his and come face to face with his hard-on.
“Mmm . . .” I grip him and stroke.
His hands dive into my hair, pulling it back tightly so he can get a clear view of my lips. “Hell . . . you’re killing me and you haven’t even started.”
Guiding him to my lips, I drown in the taste of Blake. My hands move around to his ass, tight and flexed so that the sides indent. I rake my fingernails across his cheeks and hold him to me.
A tiny tug on my hair and Blake does the moving for me. Swift grunts and long groans from his lips, I close my eyes and relax my throat. I don’t have to see to know his abs are tight along with every other muscle in his towering frame. My body hums with power, the innate feeling of victory over a man like Blake Daniels as I sense his control waning.
Alternating long glides with short thrusts, he holds me captive by the hair at my nape, but runs his thumb in long soothing strokes up and down the side of my throat. “So good, perfect . . .” His words dissolve on a groan and his grip tightens before he rips himself from my mouth. Breathing heavily, he scoops one hand under each of my knees. With a gentle yank, I drop to my back, ass hanging off the edge of the bed, and he guides himself to me.
Before I started showing, he wouldn’t enter me gently. He’d slam home, and I’d love every breathtaking inch, but, now, he wrangles the last bit of his control to enter my body in the sweetest and slowest way possible.
His eyes train on our connection. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth and pushes inside me. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist and lock behind his back, not because I’ll fall if I don’t, but to ground myself so he can use his hands freely. Moving with intentional strokes, he glides in and out while his hands, callused from lifting weights and playing guitar, run along the backs of my thighs.
“Blake . . .” The sensation of him filling me combined with the sweet way he’s loving me coils deep in my belly, intensifying every stroke.
“Right here, baby.” His fingers dig into my hips as if to punctuate his words.
“Kiss me.”
The corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly, as if his amusement isn’t able to break through his lust. He leans over me, careful to brace his weight with his hands on the bed beside my head rather than collapsing on my body. He lowers himself in a push-up so his lips hover over mine.
I swallow every heated breath as he pants open-mouthed against my lips. I arch my back, searching for more and begging him to speed up. A slow shake of his head, side to side, and his lower lip drags against mine. “Ask me again.”
“Kiss me, please.”
He doesn’t relent, but continues to torture me with his body, the tentative thrust of his hips and the barely there kiss. “Love you, babe. Love you so much.”
My heart races with the heat of his words, and my tongue moistens my lips. His eyes move to my mouth and a low groan claws its way up his throat.
He’s infuriating! Why won’t he just kiss me?
I arch and roll my hips as best I can, using my feet against his ass as leverage. “Please . . . Snake.”
His body stills, eyes flare, and he crashes his lips against mine. He swallows my gasp of pleasure and tangles his tongue with mine. We groan simultaneously, drinking from each other’s mouths, and his pace quickens.
Before Blake, I never knew that it could feel like this. To open up my body to a man, pregnant and vulnerable, and know deep in my soul that he’d protect me, keep me safe, and die to do so. My legs begin to quiver with the effort it takes to hold him to me, and bolts of pleasure strike from my core. He breaks the kiss, pushes back and cups my ass to hold me, powering into me faster now, but still gently.
Tension pulls at my muscles, and my hands work to find a stronghold with the comforter because this orgasm is going to split me in two. I can’t get enough air, and my back arches off the bed as I suck in one long final breath before the thunderous ecstasy rockets through my body. My muscles squeeze, as sensation rolls down my legs, arms, and up my neck until I’m dizzy. Floating back down, my body is a noodle, incapable of holding me up, not that I need to.