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His gaze lowers, and does a hot inspection of my breasts, and I ache to have him in the most intimate part of me, buried deep and fucking me. I’ll settle for his mouth. I push to my toes, and press my lips to his, boldly sliding my tongue past his lips. He groans low, and rough, and cups my head, devouring me, and I like it. As he says, helikes me.And like is such a small, inadequate word for what is going on between us.
And we both know it.
My palms absorb the warmth of taut skin over rippled, perfect muscle. The man is hard all over and I need that hardness next to me, inside me. “Eric,” I whisper, sliding my hands under his waistband. “I need—”
“Me too, sweetheart,” he says, kissing me again, and then he’s releasing me long enough to grab his wallet and hand me a condom. “I’ll put you in charge of this,” he says, heat radiating between us, but the condom hits a hotspot in my chest that I don’t like.
He undresses, and I’m aware of every perfect inch of him, his cock jutting forward, his ink on display in all its glorious, colored perfection, but still the condom and the past it represents torments me. I’m frozen. I can’t move. Eric’s hands come down on my shoulders and he drags me to him. “What just happened?”
What just happened?
There’s the question.
The one I now have to answer.
Chapter thirty-two
Harper
“What just happened?” he repeats and the words jolt me back to the moment.
“Can you just kiss me again already?” I ask, his heart thundering beneath my palm, or maybe it’s mine radiating down my arm. I don’t know.
“Not until you talk to me,” he counters, and I can feel his stubbornness punching through me. He’s not going to let this go. I want him to let this go. And what I need, is out of my own head right now.
“This is what happened,” I say, holding the condom between us. Even as I push to my toes and press my lips to his mouth.
One of his hands cups my head, the other squeezing my backside as he gives me what I want. He kisses the hell out of me, drugging me with the taste of him, and driving away anything but him and now. He maneuvers us and sits down on the couch, pulling me onto his lap, his thick erection pulsing between us and the condom might as well be burning a hole in my palm.
Iwill notthink about the past, I chant in my head. I will not.
“Harper,” he says roughly against my lips and then he’s tangling his fingers in my hair, using an erotic tug to force my gaze to his. “I’m no angel and I’ve had my share of fucks, but the condoms are all about you and me and us. I bought them for us.”
Understanding hits me hard, slugs me with guilt. He believes the condom made me feel like one of many, and maybe it should, maybe it would have if I didn’t have other things on my mind. “I know,” I whisper, a tremble to my voice.
“I saw the look on your face,” he says, “youdon’tknow. I told you. We’re together now.”
Until he knows, I think, but my hand frames his face and I say, “Show me. I need you to show me. Please.”
His eyes flicker with something I cannot name, an understanding in him, that is all about me, even if I don’t truly understand it. He drags my mouth to his and then he’s kissing me again, but this kiss is not like the others. It’s different, greedy and wicked, seductive and possessive. Addictive. So very addictive. I’m lost, so very lost in the feel of it, the lust of it. The taste of it, and him. I’m not just kissing him back, I’m consuming him, I’m breathing him in. And his hands are all over me, mine all over him, sinewy muscle flexing beneath my touch.
I’m so into the moment, so lost in Eric, that I don’t even know when he takes the condom from me, until he’s tearing it open. I catch his hand. “I’ll do it.”
His eyes darken, the lust in their depths, trembling through me. He releases the condom, and I toss the wrapper, gripping his erection, and reveling in the low groan that escapes his lips. There is power in pleasure,his pleasure, and I like it. I like it more than I ever imagined possible. I slide the condom down his cock, and then wrap my fingers around him.
His hand closes over mine. “You have no idea how fucking hot you are and that’s part of what makes you that hot.” He folds me close, wraps his arm around my waist, and lifts me, and I guide him inside me. He’s ridiculously hard, and it’s one of those pain is pleasure kind of moments, sliding down him, taking him deep, settling against him.
Finally, I think.
Finally.
I lean forward into him, my fingers lacing around his neck. His hand settles between my shoulder blades, fingers splayed wide and he molds me close. “God, I could live inside you, woman,” he murmurs. “What the hell are you doing to me?”
“Nothing you aren’t doing to me,” I whisper, “and as for living inside me —yes. Please,” but we still don’t move, we don’t kiss. We just breathe each other in, savor this one moment that can never be repeated, that can never be this exact instant ever again.
I ease back just enough to press my hands to his shoulders, and with that one act, sparks fire between us. His hand cups my head and our lips collide, in a ravenous kiss, my fingers diving into his hair, tangling roughly, desperately, in the silky strands.
Eric growls low in his throat and thrusts into me, pulling me hard against him. I breathe out against his mouth, gasp with the sensations he rockets through my entire body. And then we’reswaying together, slow and sexy, sensual kisses, and caresses, guiding us to what feels like the next impossibly wickedly extreme.
