“Fuck, I want you,” he said, grinding his cock against the soft, welcoming spot between her thighs.
“I want you, too. Feels like I’ve been wanting you my whole life.” She peered up at him, her eyes so vibrant they were nearly green.
Maverick pulled back, her words hitting him in all kinds of places, some comfortable, some even healing, but some less so. “You can’t toy with me, Alexa. Not when I’ve wanted you for so long. Not when I never wanted to let you go in the first place. This . . . this can just be fucking. But don’t you dare say anything you don’t mean.”
She stroked his hair. “Truth?”
He gave a tight nod and prepared for the worst, even as he hoped for a shot.
“Truth is, I don’t know what this means. Yet. I am so messed up right now. I’m not even going to hide that. But . . .” She tilted her head, and her expression was filled with something Mav didn’t want to name, but it sure as hell looked like affection. “But I know I want this. I want you, Maverick. Right now. And wanting you feels like one of the smartest decisions I’ve made in forever. Everything else be damned.” Her voice was shaky and breathy and her words were so full of dangerous, dangerous hope that Maverick didn’t dare move.
His muscles nearly shook with the force of his restraint, because his body was literally screaming at him. Screaming at him to just let go. “Fuck, Alexa.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. But I want you. I want you inside me right now more than I want my next breath.”
Even though his mind was rolling out a list of all the reasons why this was a no good what the fuck are you thinking very bad idea, Maverick’s body grabbed the reins. On a groan, he went in for a kiss, rougher than he intended, but the moan she unleashed when his mouth crashed down on hers told him she didn’t mind. They fumbled with clothes. Her boxers. His jeans. Until they were both naked and pressed tight, all hot skin on skin, and his cock ground against her soft folds until she was mewling and writhing and silently pleading with the rough, desperate grip of her hands on his shoulders, his back, his ass.
A big part of Maverick wanted to pick Alexa up and carry her to his bed—where his heart said she belonged—but this wasn’t about that. At least not yet, and he wasn’t giving either of them any more time to think than he already had.
He needed her too damn bad. Just this once. In case that’s all it was.
Taking his cock in one hand, he dragged his head against her pussy, the contact sending a ferocious need through his veins. He braced his other hand next to her shoulder and met her bright eyes. “You sure?”
“Now,” she said.
“What about prot—”
She shook her head. “I’m covered. And I want you just like this.”
“Christ,” he bit out, the trust inherent in her words kinda blowing his mind. His cock found her opening, penetrated her, slid slow and deep. It was perfection of the soul-deep, bone-bending, never-get-enough kind. He’d been with other women since they’d broken up, of course. But being with Alexa again reminded him just how much every one of those experiences had paled in comparison to being inside this woman. Damn if it wasn’t like coming home.
It took everything Mav had not to rut against her like an animal, not to just let his hips fly and pound, because that was the kind of urgency firing through his blood.
But she deserved better than that. She deserved his care. And he didn’t want to rush this. He wanted it to last forfuckingever.
He came down on one elbow as his cock bottomed out inside her. Her head wrenched back as she cried out, the look of pleasure on her face so damn beautiful. “Oh, God,” she rasped. “Oh, Maverick.”
His name from her mouth licked heat over his skin. He withdrew slowly, then hammered home again. Alexa’s eyes went wide. Her mouth dropped open. Maverick did it again and again. Slow withdrawal, fast penetration. Until her core was fisting around him and driving him insane.
“You gonna come for me, Al?” Their gazes collided as his hips snapped against her clit. “Come for me.” His hips hammered home again. Staying deep, he ground himself against her. That was all it took.
Alexa’s whole body went taut as her mouth formed a silent cry and her eyes squeezed shut, her nails digging in to his arm and his side. Her core sucked at him over and over, and Maverick forced himself to move despite the utter fucking perfection of it, because he wanted it to be good for her. He wanted the goodness—the rightness—of it to mark and change her on the inside. The way it was doing to him. Because this was shining a spotlight on everything he’d been wanting for so long.
Her whole body shook and she finally found her voice, crying out and calling his name. He kissed her, deep and claiming, keeping their faces close, and wrapped himself around her. And then he let his body off its leash. He fucked her in a fast grind that quickly had them hot and sweaty and panting. Their gazes locked, she raked at his hair and pulled him in for a kiss they couldn’t hold. Small needful whimpers spilled out of her, the sounds driving him wild. The closeness, the honesty, the need—it was the most intimate moment he’d had in years. Maybe ever. And it gave his body a giant shove toward release.
“Come again for me,” he said. “Show me how good I’m making you feel.”
“Maverick,” she rasped.
“That’s right,” he said, tilting his hips to concentrate on her clit. “Give it to me, Alexa.”
“Shit,” she whispered.
Taking the hair at the back of her head in hand, he forced her to open to him as he bore down on her in a claiming, penetrating kiss, his body still moving in hers. “Come,” he growled.
The cry started low and then turned into a guttural moan in his ear. “Mav, baby.” The spasming of her core around his—again—was all he could take. Braced up on one arm, he let his hips fly, snapping against her and concentrating sensation into his balls. And then he was coming and cursing and shooting inside her. He moved through it, trying to drag it out for both of them as long as he could.
Because he didn’t know what this meant. Or whether it would happen again. And Alexa hadn’t made any promises. Neither of them had.
“Jesus,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. They stared at one another for a long moment. Not speaking or hiding. Just looking. And he felt it—a bunch of things she was maybe thinking and maybe even feeling, but not saying. He knew because he was doing the same thing. “You okay?”
The small smile she gave him was so damn pretty. “I’m . . . definitely better than okay.”
He chuckled and nodded, affecting a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “Good. That’s good.”
Soft fingertips dragged down his face, then pushed the length of his hair back. “Thank you.”