“Now, baby doll. Now,” he grunted as he slammed into her tight sheath again. This time, he held at the bottom. Her muscles clamped down on every inch of his swollen arousal. It had to hurt him, didn’t it? There wasn’t enough room.
There was a split second when she worried that her muscles would never relax again. That she’d spend the rest of her life clamped around Brick’s perfect dick even long after he was gone from her.
But then he went rigid against her, in her. Holding in deeper than anyone had ever ventured, he let go on a shout of triumph. She felt it hot and thick, painting her insides as the first rope of his release let loose.
Her body exploded as if on command. Her muscles loosened just as he pulled out, only to clamp back down as he slammed into her again. She bucked against him.
She held on tight to her anchor. Her Brick as the world spun around them.
Every time she contracted around him, he ejaculated deeper into her. In sync, their bodies rode out their world-ending orgasms together, using each other to maximize the absolute pleasure.
Soul-changing. There would be a definitive before and after in her life. Before she’d felt Brick come inside her and after. It was warm and welcoming and messy and perfect. And she wanted more.
“My girl. My Remi,” he whispered brokenly as his hips bucked against her, drawing out the last quakes of their orgasms together.
30
Brick woke in the dark, awareness slowly creeping in through his senses. His body felt loose-limbed and well-used. The tension that had coiled within him for years was gone, replaced by something else. Something…warm. Almost glowing. Something that spread through him, waking him up and making him feel alive.
The air and sheets smelled like them. Their unique scent.
She was unsurvivable. A man didn’t just get up and walk away from Remi Ford. He stared up at the sky and wondered what the hell had just brought him to his knees.
Had he known it would be like this? Is that why he fought so hard to stay away?
There was a clear demarcation in his life. Before he’d made her his. And after. Now.
He reached for her in the dark, intending to pull her warm little body into his arms and feel the beat of her heart. To remind himself it hadn’t been a dream.
But she wasn’t there.
He sat upright and tried to peer through the darkness. The warm, glowing thing inside him gave way to fear. Sharp and claw-like. Where was she? Had she left?
An irrational panic sliced through his post-orgasmic bliss. Kicking off the tangle of sheets, he found the bedside lamp and slapped it on. Her side of the bed was rumpled. She’d been there. It hadn’t been a dream. He realized she’d slept in the dark with him and wondered if he’d made her feel safe enough.
Maybe that’s why she’d left.
He found his underwear halfway under the bed and dragged them on.
When he burst out of the bedroom door, he found her immediately, and his body reacted with a mixture of relief and longing.
She was curled up in one of the chairs in front of the dark windows over the water. Her hair was a curtain of fire that he longed to run his fingers through. Those slim fingers were wrapped around a mug. She had music playing softly from a speaker on the table. Some kind of instrumental jazz. He wondered what it looked like to her.
She studied him with an unreadable expression.
“What’s wrong?” he rasped, his voice still thick with sleep.
She smiled then. A soft kind of opening that had him by the fucking heart.
“You look awfully cute when you wake up,” she said quietly. “I always wondered.”
Self-consciously, he combed a hand through his hair. He wanted to go to her. He wanted to wrap her into his arms and never let go. She belonged to him now. And he was fucking terrified that she didn’t understand that yet.
Instead, he walked into the kitchen and helped himself to a sturdy mug of coffee. To feel closer to her, he opened the fridge and added her creamer.
“I thought you liked it black?” she said when he took the chair next to her.
“I thought you slept at four a.m.”
She took a sip of her coffee and used a bare foot to toe the chair around to face him. “I can’t sleep.”
He had about a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue. But none of them came out. Did she have regrets? It would annihilate him if she regretted what they’d done. What’d he’d done.
She was wearing the same oversized Mackinac PD sweatshirt he’d seen on her just a few weeks ago.
“I’ve been looking for that shirt,” he said mildly.
Her smile was coy, and it went straight to his gut.
“I borrowed it a few years ago.”
“Remi, are you okay?” he asked finally. “With what we did?”
Her face softened again, and she reached out with one pale hand. She gripped his arm with a strength that surprised him.
“I don’t have any regrets besides the fact that we didn’t start doing that years ago.”
Those green eyes were so earnest he could have fallen in and drowned.
“Are you sure?” His voice sounded shaky to his own ears. He hated the gnawing need he had for her. Hated the knowledge that it wasn’t enough just to share his body with her. He’d served up his fucking heart to her.
Remi rose and put her mug down on the small table between the chairs. With one step, she was standing in front of him and then climbing into his lap.
He nearly hurled his coffee to the floor to get his hands on her as she straddled him.
When her arms came around his neck, when her body settled against his chest, he let out a breath and wrapped her into his arms. Content to sit here in this chair with her and rock for the rest of his life.
“I have to tell you something,” she whispered against his neck.
He squeezed her tighter. Something was about to change.
When she said whatever she had to say, they wouldn’t be able to go back to before. To now. He wasn’t prepared for that. Hell, he wasn’t prepared for what had happened between them mere hours ago. Their lives had changed. At least his had. His course altered. And there was no going back.
“Go ahead, baby,” he said, sinking his fingers into her hair and holding her face against him.
She took a shuddery breath.
“I have to work my way up to it.”
Fuck.
“Okay.”
She pulled back to look at him. That sad smile was still there, and he wanted to kiss it away.
“Do you want to talk about what we did tonight?” she asked.
His cock stirred against her as the memories etched permanently into his brain flickered through his thoughts. She’d let him do so many things to her.
“Do you?” he hedged.
This time her lips spread into a grin as a flush tinged her cheeks pink. “I liked it. A lot. Wait, that’s not true.”
He stiffened again. Fearful that this was the moment it all came crashing down.
“I loved it.” She framed his face in her hands and pressed a kiss to his mouth. Chaste and sweet. A reward. A gold fucking star for treating her like a plaything.
“You can’t be real,” he whispered.