Hard as It Gets

Jesus, she was beautiful, soft perfection. Natural and real. With lots of curves and peaks and valleys and hidden places for him to explore. Her hands fisted in his shirt and dragged it up his stomach. With one hand, he reached over his shoulder and hauled it over his head.

And then he was on her. Kissing her mouth in urgent, aggressive twists of lips and tongue. Sucking and nipping down her neck and collarbones to her breasts. Teasing and tormenting her nipples. Becca writhed under him, her fingers plowing into his hair and trying to grip the short length. He’d actually worn it longer in Afghanistan to blend in with the locals, so he wasn’t opposed to growing it out again just so she could really pull it. The biting tugs against his scalp fucking turned him on because each one reflected her pleasure, her desire, her slow slide into abandon.

Easing onto his knees, he kissed her stomach, her hip bones, the inside of one soft thigh. “Put some pillows under your head, sunshine, because I want to watch your face.” He waited for her to comply, a small, sexy smile curving her lips, and then he slid his hands under her thighs, guided her knees onto his shoulders, and stroked his tongue through her wetness. Her sweet taste and her ecstatic cry rocketed down his body, turning his cock to steel and making him yearn to get in her. But not before he drank in her pleasure.

Alternating flicks and circles with flat sweeps of his tongue, he explored and tormented her. He penetrated her with one finger, then two, remembering what she’d seemed to like this morning and drawing out her arousal until her hips bucked and thrashed and her hands fisted in the sheets. He strapped her down with his forearm and sucked her clit into his mouth.

He’d thought her beautiful before, but her face was a total stunner when she wore that mask of pleasure—eyes hooded, almost like she was drowsy, mouth open, and lips wet.

“Nick,” she rasped. “Don’t stop.”

He smiled against her, stopping the furthest thing from his mind, and redoubled his efforts, licking, sucking, fucking her with his fingers. A long, low whine ripped from her throat as her muscles tightened around him, and then she was holding her breath, shaking, coming on his hand and mouth. The moment her body stilled, he withdrew, shoved down his jeans, and then cursed a blue storm at the laces on his boots.

She laughed, and he pretended to scowl at her as he finally got his feet free.

“Think that’s funny, do ya?”

Grinning, she nodded. “I like you eager.”

He threw the jeans and boxers somewhere behind him. “Eager’s my middle fucking name when I’m around you.” Nick retrieved a condom from the box he’d opened only this morning. Standing between her spread thighs, he rolled it on. “You are going to feel so good,” he said, looking her over and loving every damn thing he saw. The tousled blond hair, the flush on her face, and the beautiful feminine curves all called to him, but it was the adoration in her eyes that most got to him. It sent him flying to the heavens with a feeling of completion, and it threatened to splinter him to pieces because he’d never fully deserve it.

A moment of doubt flickered through him, stilling his hand on his cock and rooting his feet to the floor. Goddamnit.

Becca shoved the pillows further up the bed and scooted backward, her hands reaching out to him. “Come be with me,” she said.

Like she knew. She knew he’d gotten stuck there at the edge of the bed.

Her words drew him forward until his knees were between her thighs and his hands were braced on either side of her head. “Are you sure about this?”

She combed her fingers through the sides of his hair. “Completely.”

Thank God. “Good, because I want you so damn much.” He kissed her, took his cock in hand, and guided himself to her entrance. “Aw, damn,” he groaned as he pushed inside. Hot. Tight. Wet. He pulled out and sank back in, gaze on her face, watching her struggle to keep her eyes open as he rocked in and out of her core.

Her short nails bit at his neck and shoulders, and then he settled his weight fully upon her. Skin on skin. The connection wasn’t just physical. Not for him. And the emotion in her eyes told him not for her, either.

Nick buried his face in her neck and grasped the top of her head with one hand. God, he needed to get closer, deeper, as far inside as she could take him. His hips withdrew and plunged forward, rolling to drag pressure against her clit. She grasped his back and moaned in time with his thrusts and rocked her hips to meet his. Even as his lower back started to ache, she was still the best fucking thing he’d ever felt. He’d pushed through it this morning, so he could do it again. He flipped a mental bird at his injuries, because no way was he missing out on a moment of this experience, nor shorting Becca even an ounce of pleasure.

“You okay?” he rasped against her ear before kissing the delicate shell of skin.

Her chuckle was deep and throaty, and drew his gaze to her face. She leaned up and kissed him. “I’ve never been more okay in my life.”

Laura Kaye's books