Page 28 of Holden

The shift is so smooth I almost don’t notice it, until he thrusts against me, filling my entire pussy with his dick. My eyes widen in shock.

“Play with your clit while I fuck you,” he commands.

I rub myself while he pumps harder, his expression dark and focused. He is a man possessed by personal demons and this—fucking me—is his exorcism. He grabs my hips and pulls himself in deeper, thrusting and grinding until my climax mounts with increasing urgency.

“Is that how you want it?” he says.

My bottom lip trembles. “Yes. Like that.”

Just like that.

He pumps harder and faster and I can feel every muscle in his body tense. “Jesus, fuck, sweetness, you’re going to make me come.”

The words unleash the last of my inhibitions and my orgasm crests, flooding through my pussy with seismic force. I scream out his name, just as his climax releases. His body shudders against mine, trembling and strong, before finally, he falls limp against me. He presses his sweaty forehead against mine.

“I suppose I should have at least taken you to the bedroom.”

My chest swells. “We can still go there.”

His eyes flicker with brief hesitation, before he pulls me off the sofa, and carries me down to the hall, my now discarded robe in a pile at the foot of the couch.

Chapter 14

I roll onto my side and blink open one eye. He’s still there. Naked in my bed, softly snoring after another round of frantic sex. My throat is raw from screaming with each orgasm. And Lord help me, I tried to stop. But even after the third, my body wanted—needed—more.

I fold my hands under my face, careful not to disturb the sheets and wake Holden. It’s the perfect time to study his features, the ones that seem to fade when his eyes are open and piercing my soul. Light stubble peppers his jaw and upper lip. I imagine his face between my legs, that 5 o’clock shadow scraping my skin. And damn, if I don’t already start to get wet.

“I can feel you staring,” Holden says, eyes closed.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

His lips twist into a sexy smile. Moonlight beams through the thin curtains and spotlights his high cheekbone, the ridge of his jaw. I run my hand along it, cupping his chin in my palm. He turns his face to kiss the inside of my hand.

The tenderness of it awakens a fluttering in my stomach.

His eyes open. “I admit, I’m exhausted, but sleep isn’t exactly what I have in mind.”

I can’t help but smile. Whatever darkness drove Holden to my apartment seems to have lifted, and it’s so damn easy for me to slip into whatever fantasy keeps me from overanalyzing this. Whatever this is.

Holden pulls me close, gathering my hair in his hand, and tilts my head upward for a tender kiss that leaves me dizzy with yearning. “Good morning,” he whispers.

“It’s still night,” I say, grinning like a lovesick school girl. I nudge my head toward the clock on the dresser across the room. It’s not even four. I nuzzle into his neck. “Go back to sleep.”

“Impossible,” he says, in that low voice that makes my toes curl. He gently rolls me onto my back and leans over me, elbows on the mattress. His dark hair is slightly messed, standing upright at the back, and his eyes, always mesmerizing, are glassy with lack of sleep. “I’m happy to stay in bed—but sleep? That’s not a priority right now.”

I lick my lips. “Then what is, Mr. Quinn?”

His expression softens, almost unreadable. “Not here, Chelsea. There is no Mr. Quinn on this space. Never here. In your room, your bed.”

My smile goes impossibly wide. “In that case…” I pull his mouth down to mine.

As we kiss, his hands move across my body, slowing tracing each curve. I’ve always considered myself a bit of a tomboy, my frame somewhat rectangular shaped, despite an ample bosom. Somehow under Holden’s touch, it’s like I’ve become an hour glass, each curve pronounced and surreal.

Holden cups my breast and runs his thumb across my nipple, teasing it erect before giving the other some attention. My palms skim his shoulders, slide down his arms, and then along his ribcage down to his hips.

His cock hardens against my thigh.

I arch my back against the slow, torturous path of his mouth. There is less urgency than before, and it allows him to give each part of my body equal attention. His breath is warm, his lips cool. I close my eyes and give in to the pleasure.