He thrust against her, hard enough to knock the air from her lungs on a gasp. “I want you under me, screaming my name,” he said, pulling off her panties with one rough yank. A primal sound left his throat as he looked at her bare sex, and it sent another shockwave through her.
“I want to feel your sweet, hot pussy grip me tight when I fuck you,” he continued, taking a condom from his bedside table drawer, sheathing himself in seconds. Isabella’s sex clenched at the promise, and oh God, she wanted him inside her, fucking her any way he wanted until they both shattered together.
She spread her legs wider, and Kellan licked his bottom lip before leaning in to hover over her. Close. So close.
“And as hot as your smart mouth is, I want my cock deep inside you when I come. I want to feel everything, Isabella. I want to feel you.”
He filled her in one hard thrust, and for a second, the riot of sensation stole her breath. The blunt pressure of his cock buried deep between her legs made her inner muscles squeeze, her clit pulsing at the friction of the contact. Isabella arched up from the mattress, desperate not to lose even a fraction of their touch.
But then Kellan started to move.
“Oh…holy…Kellan, you feel…”
There was nothing she could say that would complete the sentence. Her sex grew slicker as he began to thrust. What started as slow, shallow movements quickly became more. He reached into the slight space where they were joined, teasing her needy clit with his thumb.
“You feel like that, too,” he said. Gripping her hips, he pushed deep, filling her pussy in long, hard strokes, and the sensation was too much. Isabella’s climax ripped through her in wave after wave. Kellan worked her through each one, slowing his movements as the intensity of her orgasm ebbed. But her want only doubled, and she bent her knees, clasping her thighs tight over the corded line of his waist.
“Do you feel me now?” she asked, lifting her hips to draw his cock deeper inside.
Kellan thrust back. “Yes.”
“Then don’t stop.” Her heart pounded, but she didn’t hold back. “Please, Kellan. Don’t stop until you feel everything.”
His hands dug into the bed sheets beside her shoulders as he pressed forward to fill Isabella to the hilt. He pumped faster, harder, swiveling his hips in a motion that tempted her to scream. Grabbing the backs of her knees, she lifted up, until his cock was so deep inside of her, she was certain she’d fly apart. Kellan pistoned his hips, thrusting over and over until his body went bowstring tight against hers. He pressed inside her pussy, closing all the space between them as the tension in his muscles came undone on a guttural moan.
Isabella’s breath returned slowly, and Kellan lowered his forehead to hers.
“You feel like everything,” he whispered, and she wrapped her arms around him even tighter.
* * *
Isabella lay in the shadows of Kellan’s bedroom, her body exhausted but her brain refusing to go slower than warp speed. Logically, she knew she could blame her insomnia on the combination of a high-stress, high-risk case and the wheelbarrowful of great-sex endorphins running amok in her system. But logic had very little to do with what she felt deep beneath her breastbone right now.
Everything. You feel like everything.
Kellan trusted her. He had her back. He was close.
And even though it scared her shitless, close was exactly where she wanted him, because she trusted him too. Maybe even enough to fall for him.
“Hey.” He stirred from behind her, turning to his side to press a kiss between her shoulder blades. “It’s almost one. Awfully late for you to be awake.”
Shit. Isabella’s belly tightened with guilt. He had enough trouble sleeping as it was. “I’m sorry,” she said, sending the whisper over her shoulder without turning around. “Am I keeping you up?”
“Nope.” He slid his hand over her hip, his fingers tracing light circles beneath the covers, and how could such a simple touch feel so purely, deeply good? “You thinking about the case?”
“Not exactly,” she hedged.
Kellan’s pause held no small measure of concern. “You okay?”
Isabella exhaled, her pulse pressing hard against her eardrums in the quiet, moonlit room. “Not exactly.”
“I see.” He moved his hand from her hip to her back, his touch never faltering. “Tell me something about you, Isabella. Tell me what’s making you not okay so I can help you.”
She hitched, her heart in her throat. But he’d trusted her enough to let her in tonight, to let her see things he’d kept locked away for a decade.
She trusted him, too.
“Do you remember the story I told you? About my cousin Marisol?”
“Yeah.” Confusion clung to his tone, but God, now that she’d started, Isabella couldn’t stop the words.
“She was abducted eleven years ago, a couple of weeks before her fifteenth birthday. The man who kidnapped her kept her for three days, sexually assaulting her multiple times before strangling her and leaving her body in the basement of an old apartment building.”