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I can see the war he’s waging in his mind. He wants and needs me, but he also wants to put me first. My health. My safety. My wants and needs.
“Crosby,” I murmur while wrapping my limbs around his body, “I’m fine. I’m healed. You need me and the truth is,” I swallow hard and force myself to face the truth that has been burning inside of me since the moment I met this man, “I need you.”
He closes the distance between us slowly. If he’s giving me time to change my mind or tell him to stop, I don’t need it. I’m not going anywhere.
When he kisses me, I give myself over to him completely. I want him to feel my surrender, not just to him, but also to this connection between us. I don’t want to deny it anymore.
Our lips mold together, and it sends sparks of electricity through my body. When he nips at my bottom lip, I gasp, and he takes full advantage. The way he plunges his tongue into my mouth, full of hunger and desire has me grinding my hips against him seeking the friction my body is demanding.
As he braces himself over me, his other hand grips my hip and holds me firmly against the mattress. I make a sound of protest in the back of my throat which causes him to dig his fingers into my body harder. If he’s telling me that I’m at his mercy, then I’ll gladly accept it.
“Mine,” he growls against my lips as he pulls away.
I’m a panting mess as he trails open-mouthed kisses along my jaw and down my neck. He doesn’t worship my body with just his lips, it’s a full mouth assault with kissing, nipping, and licking.
“Oh fuck,” I moan as the stubble on his jaw rubs against my already sensitive skin. “Feels so good.”
Almost too good because I feel like I’m about to explode already and there is so much more fun to be had. But I keep those words inside. I don’t want him to stop; I never want him to stop.
As he shifts above me, he moves the arm he’s using to hold himself above me and his fingers dive into my hair. He holds me still and I realize I’ve been squirming underneath him. Being at his mercy sends a thrill through me.
He moves over my collarbone, nipping at my skin as he does, and continues until he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. I arch my back as much as I can, but the way he’s holding me means that I have to just take the pleasure he’s giving me. I swear it seeps deeper into every cell, multiplying, and vibrating through me.
I moan his name, the sound coming from the depths of me, as he circles my nipple with the tip of his tongue before sucking it against the roof of his mouth. Every pull is like an electrical impulse that goes directly to my clit.
“Holy shit,” I groan, my mind spinning and my body shivering underneath him.
His mouth makes a popping sound as he releases my nipple and immediately gives the same attention to the other side. Because sharing is caring when it comes to nipple play.
“So fucking beautiful,” he mumbles around my hard nipple.
When he goes to slide farther down my body, my hands shoot out and my nails dig into his shoulders. I’m barely able to form coherent thoughts or words, but that doesn’t stop me from pleading with him, “Crosby. I need you inside of me, please. I can’t handle you tasting me. Not tonight, I need you too much.”
His dark eyes study my face, strands of my blonde hair sticking to my forehead and droplets of water glistening on my skin. Is it from the shower or the way he makes my entire body heat up?
Who fucking knows and who fucking cares?
Crosby’s jaw tenses and he grits out through his teeth, “You want my cock, Firefly?”
I make a strangled sound in the back of my throat and his mouth kicks up into a smile that has my heart pounding in my chest because of how damn beautiful it is.
“All I wanted all night was to come home to you and keep my promise. I was there to watch my brother’s back and because it was the right thing to do, but my heart was here. With you,” he confesses.
I fight against the fog in my mind, feeling the importance and the weight of his words press against my chest. Before I can grab ahold of reality fully, the head of his cock is gliding up and down my slit. I’m so wet that he slides against me easily.
“Fuck,” he grunts, “you’re pretty little pussy is drenched for me. Isn’t it?”
“Oh fucking hell, Crosby,” I moan.
I open my mouth to say more, to tell him to stop teasing me, to beg him to fuck me, to demand him give me everything. Before I can, he’s pushing inside of me, and my body opens for him. The walls of my pussy stretch around his large cock and the slight burn grounds me.
It feels just as good as it did the first time. It might be even better because I’m not denying anything between us anymore.
This is real and the connection between us fizzles and snaps, demanding the attention it is due. Crosby’s fingers tighten, my hair twisting in his fingers and the skin of my hip probably bruising in his grip. As he fills me completely, I’m strung too tight, and my release starts to build already.
I focus on the way Crosby’s jaw is clenched, like he’s holding himself back as well. I want him to lose control. I need it. He does too.
“I need you to fuck me hard, Crosby. I need you to show me,” I’m panting the words, “how much you need me.”
