I grunt my approval.
My swollen sex is dripping and his skin is slapping against mine, and the feel of his drenched cock sliding in and out is turning me on beyond imagination.
He feels so good I can’t even believe it. I want to taste and smell and feel him forever, and meanwhile, I feel something coming—something deep inside me, getting more urgent and desperate for release.
“Harder,” I murmur, concentrating hard. This feeling . . . what is it? It started low in my belly but now it’s radiating out, threatening to take over every inch of me. Now, I feel shameless. I want his mouth on me, everywhere. I want him to fuck me forever. The pressure in my belly is now thundering through me, and I know an explosion is coming.
He slows his thrusts, sliding in and out, testing the rhythm, getting even deeper. His chest slides against my hard nipples, and suddenly, I let out a cry. He’s found the right place, because the pleasure is almost too much to take, I’m getting even hotter and closer to that edge than I dreamed possible. I hook my legs around his hips and he buries himself impossibly deep inside me. I’m frantic as I find myself building to the edge of that peak.
The climax.
I don’t know it’s really the climax until it hits me. I’ve never had one before. My entire body ripples with such intensity I let out an animal scream. I come. So hard. So hard that I keep screaming and sobbing his name, over and over again, even as I start to come down. He rips me apart.
He must’ve been holding out on me because the second I find myself coming down, he plunges deep into me, holding me there, and I feel him pulsating inside me. He lets out a long, muffled groan into my hair, then whispers my name over and over again.
“Katherine,” he murmurs as the shuddering subsides, gazing dreamily into my eyes. He falls then, completely limp, into my arms.
But that’s not my name. Not anymore.
“Katie,” I whisper to correct him, cradling his head against my chest. “I’ll always be your Katie.”
Chapter 8
Staring up at the ceiling of the hotel room, I look around, seeing everything for the first time. I’d been so blinded to everything but Dax that we could’ve done it in the middle of Quincy Market and I wouldn’t have cared. I look over at Dax, and a ripple of need rushes through me, catching low in my abdomen.
He grabs my wrists and pins my arms over my head, kissing me. He’s hard again. As he starts to kiss his way down my breastbone, it hits me.
I’m not a virgin anymore.
In high school, Nevaeh had texted me when she lost her virginity to Stephen. Juliet texted me every time she slept with a new guy. I don’t have anyone to text, but the funny thing is, I don’t care. Dax is the only one I’ve ever wanted to tell everything to. The only one I’ve ever really needed.
And God, it was good. All good, because it was Dax. I’d heard the details of my friends’ deflowering, and it had sounded like a huge letdown, anything but romantic. But Dax had been incredible. Gentle, sweet, yet also strong and powerful and in control. So good was an understatement. This ranked as one of, if not the best, nights of my life.
And I’m pretty sure the other bests were also nights spent with Dax, talking on the phone, sneaking out, being together.
It’s always been him, I realize.
And the years without him have been like shadow versions of the times I’m with him.
“Okay, what’s that face about?” he asks, sliding to my side and propping himself on one elbow, lingering over me.
Holy hell, he’s beautiful. When he’s around it’s hard to believe anything is wrong. But when he says that, I realize something is tickling the back of my mind. I bite my lip, try to push it away. How can he know something’s wrong before I even know it? “Nothing.”
He sucks in a breath. “Something.”
“I feel like everything I’ve ever been told has been turned upside-down,” I explain, hyper-aware of every inch of Dax’s chiseled, naked body pressed up against mine. “You know, everyone’s always telling you to wait, because it’ll be better that way. Better, how? Instead, I’ve missed four years of this. If I knew what I was missing . . . Why did we wait that long? Why didn’t you tell me it would be that good?”
He let out a low, sexy laugh. “I think I might have tried to tell you. About a thousand times.”
“That’s not true. You never pressured me.”