Page 113 of None Of Your Business

I try to breathe through it, telling myself it’s fine and that I can enjoy this.

“Rowan.” My name on his tongue cuts through the noise in my head. “Stop fighting it.”

“I’m… It’s taking too long,” I choke out, mortified by the tremor in my own voice.

“Look at me. Do I look like I’m in a hurry?”

His hair is rumpled from my fingers, his jaw set, but not a trace of impatience crosses his face. He looks like a man who would stay on his knees between my legs for the rest of the night if that’s what it took.

His thumb sweeps the inside of my thigh, calming the muscle spasm there. “Close your eyes, relax your hips, and let me be.”

I throw my head back and breathe.

This time, there’s no holding him back.

He sucks my clit while he slides one finger inside, stretching me until my muscles tighten around him.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans against my skin.

He adds a second finger, slowly working them inside me, his thumb coming around to circle my clit with steady, relentless pressure, hitting a spot high inside me that makes my entire body go taut.

“Hudson!” I cry out, my head tossing back against the mattress.

“Right there?” he asks. “Tell me, Rowan. Tell me how it feels.”

“Yes—god, right there—please—”

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, his pace quickening until the coil in my stomach is stretched to its absolute limit. “Come for me.”

My back arches, a sharp cry breaking out of me as the orgasm rips through my body.

He rides out every single aftershock, his fingers staying buried deep inside me until the last tremor fades and I slump back into the mattress, gasping for air.

I open my eyes to see him kissing his way up my body, his breathing as ragged and uneven as mine.

The insecurity that usually sits like a lead weight in my chest is gone, scoured away by the heat of his mouth.

“I think I died for a minute,” I whisper, an exhausted smile tugging at my lips.

He chuckles against my neck. “I like to make sure my work is thorough.”

His eyes finally meet mine, and I… blush.

It’s a little late for modesty, but the intensity of his stare makes my cheeks burn. He traces the sudden heat on my face with the pad of his thumb.

“Hudson?”

“Yeah?”

“Please say you’re thorough in every aspect of your life and you’ve got condoms?”

His eyes darken again.

“A plus for preparation,” I murmur as he leans over the edge of the bed, opens the top drawer of his nightstand, and comes back holding a square foil wrapper.

I lie back against the pillow, watching him step off the mattress. My eyes trace the hard line of his back and shoulders as he shoves his trousers and boxers down his legs, kicking them aside. He turns back to the bed completely bare, tearing the foil open with his teeth and rolling the condom down his length.

Any lingering reservation I had completely vanishes. The sight of him takes what little breath I have left.