My legs tremble, and he holds them wide open, taking control entirely, winding me up until I’m convinced I’m facing impending death. Every nerve ending is a live wire, on fire, multiplying with every swipe.
Unexpectedly, I cry out as it all surges into one powerful, unrelenting release. I don’t hear a thing as wave after wave sizzles through me. I’m still trembling when his gaze locks with mine, visibly taking pleasure in how he’s made me feel. Right before his eyes, I’m unspooling like I never have before, like twine pulled tight to the point of snapping. The aftershock leaves me breathless, floored, motionless.
I’m only brought back to earth when he moves back over me, pressing a soft kiss to my temple.
I can’t find the words to express my gratitude, so I slip out from underneath him, shifting my weight on top of him. For the first time, he relinquishes control. He lets me hold him down, a smile tugging at his lips as I retrace all the artwork adorning his chest with my lips. I’m taking my sweet time, savoring the moment, moving over each line of his abs, one by one, like he’s a gourmet feast.
By the time I finally take his length in my hand, he shudders, letting out an unexpected groan that does something to my insides in the best way. It’s oddly gratifying to have such an impact on him without really doing anything at all.
“You don’t have to do this,” he says, lifting my chin with a single finger.
“I want to.” There’s nothing I want more than to hear how he sounds when I take him in my mouth. I want to see what he looks like when he comes undone.
“I can’t believe you’re right in front of me like this.” His words quiver with raw emotion, letting his hand roam down my back.
“How much have you thought about me doing this to you?”
“More than you want to know,” he admits.
I squeeze him a little harder, feeling the pulse of his blood pumping. “Tell me exactly.”
“Since the day you moved in, I wanted you,” he manages. “I’ve never wanted someone so bad in my entire life. You’ve wrecked me.”
When I give him a teasing lick, he lets out a string of breathy curses. “Holy fuck.”
I release him for a split second. “Is that good?”
“I—I can’t speak right now,” he says, breathless, which tells me all I need to know. He lets his head fall to the pillow as I settle into what I can tell is the perfect speed. Even submitting, he’s still dominating, threading his fingers through my hair, holding me in place, how he wants it.
I watch his hand twist the sheets for grip as my pace picks up. Given the earth-shattering orgasm he just gave me, I’m eager to pull out all the stops. Apparently, he’s found the strength to speak again. And judging from all the filthy things coming out of his mouth—how much he loves my mouth, how wet he imagines I am, all things that could make even the most seasoned romance readers blush—I’m confident in my abilities.
When he’s done, he pulls me upward by the biceps and folds me over him. We lay like that for a few moments, skin to skin, chests heaving in unison.
“Can I ask you something?” I blurt out.
“No,” he chuckles, running his fingers up and down my spine.
I ask anyway. “Was it okay?”
“Was what okay?”
I give him a sideways glare. “You know.”
I can tell by the devilish smirk on his face that he knows exactly what I’m talking about. “You’re bad at a lot of things.” He lets that statement linger in the air for a few beats too long. “But believe me, blow jobs aren’t one of them.”
I nuzzle into his chest and peek up at him.
“You never listen to me,” he says, his lips curled into a boyish grin. “I thought I told you never to let me kiss you again.”
A bubble of laughter escapes me as he traces the pad of his finger over my shoulder. “That’s your idea of kissing?”
He squeezes me tighter against him. “Was it as bad as you claimed the first time?”
“Wow, I really bruised your ego, didn’t I?” I swing him a side eye, contemplating letting him out of his misery.
“I mean, yeah. You said I was the worst kiss you’d ever had.”
I run my hand over his cheek, curving at his jaw. “Metcalfe, you were a perfectly fine kisser. I couldn’t let your head explode,” I tell him. “Listen, I’m not a good judge, because for me, it’s less about the mechanics. It’s all about—”
“The emotion,” he cuts in knowingly.
“Exactly. So, while your kiss that day was fine, I thought there wasn’t anything behind it. No deeper feelings or anything.”
“Well, now you know that wasn’t true.”
He’s telling the truth. I know it in the way his soft lips mirror mine at just the right angle, feathering light kisses over the corner of my lips. Unlike the hungry collision of our lips in my bedroom doorway, this kiss is soft, unrushed, but no less purposeful. With each tiny inhale, each press of our lips closer, every slide of our tongues.
I melt like butter against him, thighs parting on either side of his torso as he moves under me. Every touch and taste of him drives me wild with need. My teeth graze his lip, giving the softest bite. I’m not sure what to concentrate on as his hands wander my backside, gripping my ass, grinding me to him.
He loses all control at one point, sitting upward, capturing my lips, my neck, my breasts with urgency. My skin erupts in gooseflesh everywhere he touches. I reach to feel him under me, pressing against me, teasing. He tenses as I move my hand over him, guiding him closer.
He presses his forehead to mine. “We don’t have to do anything else if you don’t want to.”
“I do want to. I really want to,” I whisper, meeting his eyes with urgency.
His gaze searches mine for any sign of doubt. When he fails to find any, he shifts me aside to retrieve a condom from his wallet in his pants pocket. I watch as he rolls it on with ease, quick to resettle us exactly as we were.
He allows me to set the pace, taking his size in gradually, inch by inch. Halfway, I pause, shuddering at the overwhelming feeling of him stretching me, filling me. “I don’t know if this is going to work,” I manage.
He cups my cheek, pressing a soft kiss into my neck. “It’s okay. Just go slow.” A low groan escapes him as I lower myself, his voice driving me wild with need. “You can take it, baby. That’s it.”
“Fuck,” I moan, tipping my head back as I fully sink onto him, feeling him hit me exactly where I want it. When we find the perfect rhythm, chests melding together, I can’t believe we’ve wasted so many months.
“God, you feel . . . I never knew it could be this good,” he whispers against my lips, giving my bottom lip the softest bite as I rock against him, increasing my speed.
I’m surely a broken record of cries as he moves his hand between my legs, thumb swiping exactly where I crave the pressure. I curl my nails into his neck, his hard back, his shoulders. Everywhere I can reach.
We watch each other climb higher and higher, exchanging slow, shallow breaths. We’re in our own strange bubble. We’re floating above earth, away from all reality, intrinsically connected.
His rough free hand works its way over my waist, setting the pace in the final stretch, flexing and working against me. His eyes pin me in place when he finally detonates in me, sending me plunging into another dimension along with him.
When it’s all over, I’m not even sure I have control over my own body. The aftershocks rip through me, rendering my limbs Jell-O. Our eyes snag in the dark, and he holds my gaze. All the seemingly insignificant strips of him I’ve banked slowly, one by one, in my memories make up the man right here, holding on to me like I’m about to disappear. The tiny arch of his brow when he looks at me. The way he looks to the ceiling, pretending to be hopelessly annoyed with me when I know he isn’t. The way he’ll go out of his way to help me in all my ridiculous situations. And the way he cares for Angie. The way he cares for her so much that he can’t fathom losing anyone else in his life.
“You have to leave in a few hours,” I whisper, collapsing over his chest. “I don’t want you to.”
He squeezes me tighter, melding us together, savoring the moment. “I don’t want to leave you, either.”
“Will you wake me up before you go?” I plead. “I don’t want to wake up alone.”
He responds by kissing the top of my head. I burrow into his neck, taking in his scent, fighting to stay awake in the darkness, wishing I could slow down time. Maybe stop it altogether.
Before I fall asleep, holding on to him for dear life, the realization pours over me like a bucket of cold water. There’s no coming back from this.
? chapter twenty-nine