Page 60 of Hearts on the Mend

“You’re doing so well,” he says, his grip tightening on my waist, then whimpers.

The crack in his voice is enough to know the most restrained man I’ve ever met is about to break. The whimper heard around the world goes straight to my clit, and my orgasm rushes up on me, ricocheting through my body as I shake over his tongue. I’m so fucking sensitive, even that mustache makes me quiver as it brushes against me.

I bend forward, resting my head against the headboard as I struggle to catch my breath before I roll off Nolan.

He reaches out, hauling me close. “Not done with you yet.”

I giggle, burying my face into his shoulder. “We should take a minute, we should…”

He waits for me to finish, his eyes hooded as he gazes down at me.

Nolan Murphy, the quietest grump who can set me on fire. It’s addictive as it is…

Well, that’s just it. He’s so much… too much when life already seems so fucking overwhelming.

“I’m scared,” I choke out.

It’s so quiet between us, the house silent for once. Soft light spills across Nolan and the bed from the nightlight beside the door. The scorching heat that consumed us plummets to a simmer. It’s a soft, buzzing undercurrent as I catch myself falling into his eyes and the way they search mine.

We’re both looking for answers, it seems, and I’m not sure it’s here in bed with me. But I’m not sure it isn’t here either.

He tangles his hand into my hair, twisting the strands around his fingers as if rooting himself here with me. He draws me close, kissing the underside of my jaw, my cheek, my forehead before his lips are back on mine. It’s so heartbreakingly tender. Each slow press opens me until I know it’s too late—I’m already in too deep with Nolan.

I hook my legs over his waist and straddle him, my fingers tugging the hem of his T-shirt. I need to feel him. Need to find something that isn’t completely overwhelming.

But Nolan guides his hands to mine, stopping me. “No, not now.” He pushes up to his arms, then hauls us to the end of the bed, perched on the edge of the mattress.

“You’re gorgeous, Cassie,” he whispers, tracing his hand down between my breasts, across my sun tattoo. His calloused fingers are rough against my soft skin. I arch my back, pressing my hips against his, and grind against his jeans. “That night I saw you, that night we spent together… fuck. Haven’t forgotten, and I’m sure as hell not ready to walk away. Be scared with me. For the time we have left, tell me it’s you and me.”

His hand trails lower, his thumb settling against my clit in a slow circle. Warmth floods my body as I ride his hand.

I flick open the button to his jeans.

“Still have my IUD,” I murmur against his neck. “In case you were wondering.”

His jaw tightens, a low grunt escaping him. “Good.”

“All yours,” I say in a soft whimper, close enough already, my body sensitive and tingling. “I need to feel you.”

He lifts me just enough to shove down his jeans and boxers. They fall to his feet before he sits down again, my legs braced on either side of his thighs. His cock is hard against my clit, and maybe I’m greedy, but I sway my hips against him and moan.

“Spit, Hellcat.”

I don’t break eye contact when I spit into his palm, the anticipation almost too much. My head feels empty, my pulse pounding between my thighs, desperate for release.

“Like last time?” he asks, his voice ragged.

I nod, dipping my head to his shoulder as he presses against me.

“Eyes on me,” he commands. “I want to watch you.”

I adjust my hips as I take him inch by inch, until finally, he fills me up.

“You and me,” he whispers again, thrusting his hips to sink deep.

I slip my hands back into his hair, rocking back and forth on his length, until it feels as if I’ll fall apart, then and there. It’s too much, too… perfect.

“You’re doing such a great job. Can you feel how good you take me, honey?”