Treasure Me (One Night with Sole Regret #10)

He didn’t set her down until he reached the steps, and when her feet touched the ground, she turned and bolted up the stairs as fast as she could move. She wouldn’t be stopping every three steps for a little kiss; she wanted so much more of him than that. He was laughing as he chased her. The rich happy sound spread through her, reminding her how joyful he could be when his mind was free of troubles. The man was an expert at compartmentalizing.

Glad she hadn’t bothered to lock the door when she’d gone next door earlier, she bolted inside the house and was surprised to find herself caught in Kellen’s arms as he bumped into her from behind. He was faster than she’d estimated. She hadn’t even had time to shed her clothes in the hopes of tempting him to get right down to business.

He seemed to be of the same mind as he kicked the door shut. His mouth was on her neck, one hand on her breast, the other hiking up her skirt until he found . . . yes.

“I want you,” he said near her ear. “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself.”

She stifled her words, knowing that if she said what was on her mind—why shouldn’t you want me?—that they’d end up talking, most likely about Sara, and she did not want to squelch the passion that burned so brightly between them when they allowed it.

“Then take me.” She reached behind her, her hand easily finding his hard length. He gasped, and when she wasted no time freeing him from his shorts, her name shuddered out from between his lips. “Take me right here.”

His groan of torment made her core pulse with need, and yet as turned on as she was, she was after something much deeper than his cock inside her. She stifled a moan of disappointment when he didn’t yank her panties off and bury himself deep. Control. The man had way too much control. He walked farther into the house, his arms tight around her, carrying most of her weight since her feet were barely on the floor. He headed for her piano. God, she hoped he didn’t request that she play right now. Was it too damned much to ask that he give up a shred of that control and fuck her when she needed to be fucked?

He flattened her palms on the closed lid of the piano and leaned over her, his weight bending her over the smooth surface. “Don’t move,” he said, his voice a low, tortured growl rising from deep in his chest.

Her breath caught when his hands moved under her skirt and tugged her panties down her thighs. His fingers brushed the wetness between her swollen lips. She lifted a hand from the piano to reach behind her—wanting to touch him as much as she wanted him to continue touching her.

“You can’t move, Dawn, or I’ll need to tie you.”

She returned her palm to the lid of the piano, and before she could ponder the meaning behind his words, he was inside her. His deep thrusts were oh so slow. Oh so exquisite. Perfectly in sync with the lapping waves outside. His hands moved from her hips to rest on the piano on either side of her. Their only connections were where their bodies were joined and in the sensual rhythm that drove them both.

“Why do you torment me?” His breath ticked the back of her shoulder, and she wasn’t sure if he was referring to her or to Sara. “Why does everything you do turn me on? Why do I resent my feelings for her so much when I’m with you?”

She didn’t dare answer his questions. He was lost in her and in himself. And was finally, finally, making love to her without having to tie her. This was an important step. She wasn’t sure if it was a huge step for him or a tiny one, but they were moving in the right direction. Maybe someday he’d let her make love to him or better yet, they’d make love together, but this time she let him have his way and held still because, frankly, he was good at this and if she shut off her thoughts and just let herself feel him, he awakened her body and heightened her senses to a pinnacle she’d never reached with any other man.

“You feel so good,” he whispered.

She nodded, concentrating hard on not rocking back to drive him deeper. She wanted him to feel comfortable—safe about taking her without ropes forcing her cooperation—but damn it was a challenge to hold still when every instinct told her to meet his strokes.

His steady, deep thrusts took her up, up, up. She bit her lip, trying to hold back moans of pleasure, but it was futile. The rhythm was driving her closer to the edge. If he would just . . . oh . . .

She was so far beyond her usual point of release that she was afraid to let go. If he’d give her clit the attention he usually showed it, she could come and be done with it. Hell, if he squeezed her nipple at this point, she’d likely explode. But no. The same deep and slow rhythm continued to drag her higher and higher. She needed release so bad that her pussy ached from being so swollen, so thoroughly fucked.

“I can’t take much more,” she said.

“You will.”

She would, because his possession felt fucking amazing, but she really couldn’t take more. Oh God, please, just let me come. She hadn’t realized she’d begged out loud until he chuckled. Her whole body was so sensitive, his laughter sounded cruel.

“I could let you come. Your clit must be driving you insane, because your pussy is unbelievably swollen and tight right now. You have no idea how good it feels to fuck you when you’re this turned on.”

She had some idea. She squirmed, and even that slight change in contact had her gasping for air. Her hips began to rock on their own. She dug her fingers into the lid of the piano, trying to halt her mindless need to urge him into a faster pace, but once she started moving, she couldn’t stop. He met her strokes—faster, faster—and each time they came together, his cock bumped into her cervix, sending waves of pleasure deeper than he’d ever reached. A scream tore from her as everything inside her tightened to an unbearable degree and then exploded in mind-blowing waves of pleasure, ripping through her entire body. Hell, she felt her orgasm in her hair follicles and the soles of her feet. Every muscle was quivering, every pleasure sensor ignited. She was scarcely aware of Kellen’s encouraging words as he continued to pound into her, drawing her orgasm out as long as possible.

“That’s it, baby, come. Give me all of it.” His breath caught, and he grabbed her hips to still her motion, but her mindless rocking couldn’t be stopped. “Shit,” he groaned, his fingers digging hard into her flesh. “Don’t move or I’m going to—”

She smiled in satisfaction when he gave up a piece of his control and came inside her. The insides of her thighs were drenched with his cum and hers when he finally collapsed onto her back, breathing so hard she feared his lungs might explode.

“I meant to stop,” he said breathlessly.

She knew it was one of his promises to Sara—to never come inside a woman—and Dawn was sure he’d become all moody and morose over what he’d think was a betrayal and a mistake, but for Dawn, the cum trickling down her thigh was a victory and she savored it.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” she said.

He laughed and snuggled his face into her back. “Me too. That was amazing.”

Happiness bubbled through her, and her smile spread so wide, her eyes watered. She blinked back tears, figuring he’d mistake her crying after sex as something negative.

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