Maverick Cage just growled.
He parts my legs wider with his hand. I feel his fingers slide, first one, then two. Then he’s plunging deeper and slower. Rubbing my clit with his thumb. I’m so wet I hear his fingers moving inside me as his lips graze my ear. He presses a kiss there and then he looks down at me, heavy-lidded.
“God, Reese.” He ducks to lave my breasts with his tongue as his fingers plunge deeper. Maverick eases back again to watch me as he touches me. “Look at you.”
He’s so hot above me. He’s so tender when he touches me.
He looks just as undone as I am.
I come quickly, and while I’m coming, he settles between my legs and I can’t breathe.
I feel him there. So hot and so big and so hard.
I tense up in anticipation, waiting.
He hesitates for a painful few seconds, then he scans my face and clenches his jaw. “This is your first time. You should be treated right, on a nice bed with nice sheets—”
I cover his mouth with my hand. “No,” I plead anxiously, searching his darkened silver eyes with an ache in my chest and between my thighs.
I should be afraid. I had always been afraid, wanting the right moment, the right guy. This is the moment and this is the guy and I’m not scared. All I’m scared of is this never happening between us.
He grabs my face in one hand and uses it to open my mouth, and he kisses me, his tongue thrusting wetly into my mouth.
I claw at his skin, down his back, shifting beneath him as I slide my hands down the small of his back to grab his muscular ass and urge him closer.
He nips my lips on a loss of control and watches me as he starts going in. My vision blurs. My body burns, from where he enters and to my heart. It’s everything he’s giving me and everything he’s taking. Every time I said no was for him, every time I wondered about it was for this. “Oh,” I whisper in his ear, surprised at the feel of him.
He stops, cups my face in one hand, and looks at me, a little raw and a lot hot. “You okay?”
“More than okay.” I nod so fast I’m dizzy.
We’re both breathing hard. I’m quaking with need and his body vibrates with self-control. Maverick’s eyes smolder, but I’m the one on fire. He sucks one of my breasts, and I buck from the pleasure. There is pressure as he advances, and heat and length and him, pulsing and alive and perfect and male and right now mine. So mine. So wrong. And so, so right.
He braces his arms on either side of my head as he withdraws. I feel my body clutch around him in the most exquisite way when he slowly drives back in.
It feels even better this time, and he goes an inch deeper. “Oh god,” I gasp as I rear up, biting his shoulder, clenching one of my arms around the back of his neck.
“Tell me,” he gruffs in my ear, caressing my breast in one palm, watching me like he needs it to be good. “Do you want more?”
I can’t speak; I’m too busy trying to hold back another orgasm, waiting for him to go there with me.
But I nod wildly up and down.
He moves his hips and enters me some more, his jaw tight, nostrils flaring, eyes heavy. I can tell he’s trying to take it slow for me and that it’s taking every ounce of his willpower to do so.
“How’s that?” Taking my face back in his hand, he kisses me wildly. “You sweet, gorgeous little thing.”
“Oh god. You feel so good, Maverick.”
He’s big and wide and engulfing me, breath by breath, inch by inch. I’m dying an exquisite death. My breath rasps in my throat. “More. Don’t stop.”
He grits his teeth, his eyes brimming with passion as he pushes the last of the way in, his jaw squarer than ever, his neck straining with his effort, every muscle on his torso taut as he takes me.
“Oh god,” I say in wonder as my orgasm starts quickly building. I grab his shoulders and press my face into his neck.
When he goes all the way in, I stop breathing. He’s inside me and I can feel him inside me, thick and pulsing, stretching. He groans and clutches me to him. “God, hold on to me,” he says, starting to slowly move in and out of me.
“Maverick,” I rasp, and rock my hips.
He’s almost crushing me against his body, moving his hips faster. He watches my face for any signs of pain as he withdraws and thrusts all the way in . . . again . . . and again . . . and again.
“Maverick,” I gasp, and arch and writhe, rubbing my fingers all over his muscles. We move together, and his breath is my breath, his body is my body, and we’re all instinct. I’m only feeling, hazy and raw and alive.
I can’t find words to say how I feel, how I need, how glorious he feels, smells, looks right now.