He strokes me first, his fingers readying me, and I moan in pleasure and anticipation. Then I feel the head of his cock at my sex, the pressure of entry, and then the sweet thrill when he drives himself home.
We move together, anticipating touches, sharing kisses. It is sensual, romantic, soft and easy. He is right—we are making love, and that sweet reality makes me want to weep with joy even as much as it scares me.
He strokes me, bringing me higher and higher until I tremble in his arms, the orgasm rippling over me this time like waves upon a sunlit pond.
His coming is much more violent, and he cries my name as he finds his release, and I cling to him, urging him deeper and deeper, wanting every last bit of him.
We lay together, and he takes off my blindfold then smiles down at me. Then he pulls me close and holds me.
I sigh with delight and contentment. And as I curl up against him, I try not to think of how much I want to stay with him, and that all of this is leading to the one inevitable conclusion—me in Texas, and Ryan in California.
Chapter Eleven
I’m floating on an undulating sea, rising and falling, each wave battering my body and taking me closer, closer, closer to shore.
The water is warm and wet, slick and sensual. It moves over my naked skin. Teasing, seducing. Claiming.
It will suck me under, I know that, and yet I don’t care. I want to drown it it, I want to go down, down, down...
“Hunter,” I whisper as I slide out of sleep. My eyes flutter open, and I look up into the dark heat of his eyes.
His hands are pressed into the mattress on either side of my head, supporting his body as he moves slowly, languidly inside me. My body is alive—awake. Certainly more awake than the rest of me, though I’m getting there fast.
I spread my legs wider, giving him access, silently acknowledging that he has taken me in sleep—and that I like it.
He thrusts harder, again and again, until finally he explodes above me, and I watch as the orgasm draws him up, and then crashes him down upon me.
When his breathing returns to normal, he gently brushes his lips over mine. “Good morning.”
I smile in return. “Nice way to wake up.”
“You’re at my mercy, after all,” he says. “And I couldn’t resist you naked and sprawled on your back, your legs parted, just beckoning for me. You were already wet,” he said. “Wet and slick and hot before I even touched you.”
“I was dreaming of you,” I admit. “And then I was dreaming of this.” I lick my lips, then swallow, foolishly embarrassed by what I am about to say. “I like it. I want to be used.”
I see the heat flare in his eyes. “Do you. Why?”
I start to turn my head away, but he stops me with a firm finger on my chin.
“Why,” he repeats.
“You know,” I say. “It’s because I’m yours.” And then, because I have not yet had enough of him, I turn over, tucking my knees under me so that I am giving him my rear.
“I’m yours,” I say, my voice low and meaningful. I look back over my shoulder. “Please. I want you. I want you first.”
“Jamie, kitten.” His voice is raw, and there’s no mistaking the desire. “I don’t want to hurt you. If you’ve never...without lube...”
“My purse,” I say. “A holdover from my days of fucking around,” I add, then smile when he smirks.
It takes him only a moment to find it, and then he is back. “You’re sure?”
I want to tell him that I don’t want to leave him. That I think, just maybe, I have fallen in love with him.
But that isn’t something I can say, and it’s not something I can give. But I can give him me. “Yes,” I say. “Please, yes.”
“Then come here,” he says, pulling me up from my position on my knees. He crushes his mouth against mine in a kiss that is wild and deep and crazed with passion.