He groaned, his hands gripping my hips, picking me back up and making me slide up and down, picking up a rhythm. The bathtub had left me sated only moments earlier, but as I rode him, heat rose again. I wanted more of this man, of this wicked pleasure. I wanted him to fuck me all night, let me ride him like this until I collapsed in exhaustion.
He gripped my hip in one hand as the other slid over my ass. Without warning, he smacked me hard with his palm, making my skin sting. I groaned in response, and he spanked me again as I rose and fell on his lap, driving us both to the edge. He groaned and smacked the other side of my ass, hard, so that I was sure my backside would be red when this was all over.
And it only made me want more. Always, with this man, I wanted more. Nothing he did was ever enough, it only made me desperate for him to go faster, harder, rougher. He sat up a little, his mouth finding my breast. His tongue circled my nipple, and I raked my hands across his back. Wanting more. “That feels good,” I said, leaning forward, letting him suck and pull on my breast. He fell back into the bed, and I braced myself on my hands, his mouth not leaving my skin.
He held me over him, his hands on my hips, and bucked against me, quickening the pace in a way I couldn’t do on my own. I moaned, leaning down and kissing below his ear as he fucked me harder and faster. “I like that,” I whispered into his ear, in a voice I hardly recognized as my own.
His hands slid around to my back side, gripping my ass as he fucked me faster, harder. His breath turned raspy, matching my own throaty moans. His hips ground into my thighs as I rode him, and I knew I’d be sore later from this, but couldn’t bring myself to care.
I twisted my hand into the blanket as I tried to hold it together, but I was unraveling, pushing closer to the edge. Just as I nearly hit my release, he paused, sitting up and twisting me around, pushing me down onto the bed, pinning me on my back under him without pulling out. Without stopping.
He hooked my knees over his shoulders, so I was bent in half, and plunged deeper, harder, the angle making him feel bigger than before. “You look good on your back,” he said. I reached up, pulling him down to kiss me. My legs were nearly above my head now, and I was pinned like this, with him thrusting harder, our fucking growing rougher, more frantic. “You’re mine,” he said again, his voice rough and possessive.
I kissed him harder as his groans grew more desperate. As he thrust harder, until we crashed together in a wave of pleasure, and his cock throbbed inside me, hard, insistent.
Eventually he collapsed over me, his sweat mingling with mine, his breathing labored. I brought my legs back down against the sheets, rumpled and twisted beneath our bodies by the almost violent way he’d just fucked me. I couldn’t bring myself to care, could only slide closer.
I wanted to stay there forever, in the languid, relaxed way we lay together. Like nothing else mattered but this moment.
His face was nestled against my neck, his body over mine when I mouthed I love you, knowing he couldn’t see it. It was the closest I could get to telling him.
And it was true. I was falling for this man, for everything he’d meant to me and everything he’d become.
And it scared me to death.
Chapter 4
Eventually, we got up and finished our wine, and I cleaned up in the bathroom before returning to bed. Landon opened the drapery, exposing floor to ceiling windows. Below, the city glittered, and the stars above shined back. It felt like we were floating above it all, like the real world below didn’t exist anymore.
He came back to bed, sliding in under the covers and up against me. I nestled up against him, feeling calm and relieved for the first time since I’d left town. He was quiet so long that I thought he might’ve fallen asleep, but then he spoke.
“There were so many times I wished I’d never left you,” he said.
His confession threw me off. Landon was a man who didn’t express regrets. He charged forward, not looking back.
“I wish you hadn’t,” I said, my hand gliding up and down his side, trying to memorize the ripple of his muscles.
“I had to. I know you don’t understand, don’t agree, but I had to.”
“I know,” I said, “you wanted to prove yourself.”
“It wasn’t just that. The only people I truly trusted were you and Matt. And that day, I realized Matt didn’t trust me back. Everything he said about me was true, and it killed me.”
“He would trust you with his life,” I said. Matt had said so himself, just a day earlier.
“But not with his sister’s life,” he replied. “I hated everything he said, because I hated that he was right. I wanted to be good to you but I didn’t know how. When I left, I promised myself I wouldn’t come back until I could be worthy of you.”