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Caressing his chest, I hedged. “How come you don’t see them?”
Letting out a heavy sigh, he toyed with the ends of my hair. “I just don’t.”
That was all he had to say to get me to shut up. Obviously, he didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to push him. After a few beats, he continued reading. I tried to imagine what his parents looked like, and why they’d actively choose not to see Davis again. Although, I had chosen that too, hadn’t I? I moved across the country to get away from him, and I suppose they did too…but why?
Blinking, I pushed past the thoughts plaguing me and focused on his words, but the more he read in that perfect, rough timbre, the more my heart softened and swooped.
I had to stop.
Turning in his arms, I stared down at him while his reading paused.
His lips parted, watching me in fascination as I unbuttoned my shirt.
He closed the book and set it aside.
The silence in the room seemed to scream at all the things I should be saying, and all the things he refused to—it didn’t matter. We didn’t have to explain ourselves; we’d let our bodies say all that we needed to.
I helped him peel his shirt off and then lowered myself to unfasten his jeans.
“Tell me what to do to you,” I whispered, peppering his chest with kisses.
Releasing a sound that could rival a growl, he sat up and gripped me by the neck, like he’d done in the bath.
Planting a firm kiss to my jaw, then a soft one to my lips, he shook his head.
“You tell me what you want.”
Flames licked at my insides as I processed his words. I hadn’t considered what I wanted, except to be touched and to feel good. But, him asking made me feel cherished, desired, andpowerful. I could ask for anything.
“I want you to try what you showed me in the bath.”
The heated look he gave me told me I was right on track with what he’d been craving.
“Okay, but only if you promise me some slow sex upstairs afterward.”
Shit, maybe I was wrong. He wanted slow sex? That seemed incredibly intimate.
Nodding, I swallowed around the lump of emotion clogging my throat. How come every time I tried to categorize this as just sex, he seemed to contradict the sentiment? Every time I expected him to pull away, he’d tug me closer, or be sweeter, more thoughtful…moreintothis than I ever expected.
He moved, pulling off his jeans and boxers, nudging me out of my thoughts. Pressing a kiss to my jaw and down my neck, his voice was rough against me as he commanded, “Come here.”
Feeling exhilarated, I followed, until I stood before him, peering down into his dark eyes while his palm stroked his stiff erection.
“Straddle me,” he rasped, barely audible over the erratic beat in my ears.
Pressing my knee into the leather, and bracing my hand against his shoulder, I lowered myself onto him, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed.
“Breathe, baby,” he whispered, “because you’re going to need every single ounce of air.”
Ohfuck.
Unable to remain still, I began grinding against him, going slow at first, and as I became more comfortable with his size and feeling stretched, he took the opportunity and gripped me by the neck with one massive palm while the other held my hip.
“Shit, you feel good.”
He thrust hard and fast, bouncing me on his cock while holding me by the throat.
“Look at these tits. You’re fucking perfect, baby,” he muttered, breathlessly, before leaning forward to lap at my nipples. He released my neck and hip long enough to cup my breasts while he ran his tongue roughly across each peaked nub. I continued fucking him while he sucked and licked, and then his hungry gaze traveled back up to mine, and I could see the lust consume him. He used two hands to hold my neck while he thrust as hard as he could into my core.
