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“Clay,” I whisper, and his hooded gaze finds mine. “Hurry.”
“I don’t want to rush this.” He’s still tracing a finger up the inside of my thigh. It’s exploratory, teasing, as if he hasn’t already touched the deepest parts of me.
“Please.”
He stills for a moment.
Then he grabs me under the knees and lifts my hips up to meet him.
This first feel of his cock is dizzying. He’s thick and impossibly hard.
Every time, I question whether I can take him.
More than ever, I long to try.
With a tight exhale, he shifts his hips forward.
“Oh.” My fingers dig into the smooth muscle of his back. “Ohhhh,” I sigh as he sinks inside inch after impossible inch.
“Goddammit, Nova. You’re my heaven.”
Not just heaven. His heaven.
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to be anything as much as I wanted to be his.
He rocks into me, slow strokes that takes him deeper every time.
Clay pulls back to search my face for signs of pain or distress.
He won’t find any.
He could split me in two right now and I would pull him closer with white knuckles.
He thrusts. I squeeze.
I writhe. He groans.
Even as he’s possessing me, I’m possessing him.
My nails rake his back, and the only word on my lips is his name.
When he comes, he cries out mine.
* * *
“Remember when you got this tattoo?” I smile as I drag my fingers along the mountain ridge on his shoulder when we’re lying in bed and coming down from the high.
He nods. “One of the best nights of my life.”
My brows life. “You like it that much?”
“Those were good tacos.”
I hit him and he grins.
Now I’m thinking of that night too.
I bite my lip. “It must be almost time for a new one. What are you going to get? What symbolizes this year?”
