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“This,” he says. “Exactly this, how you look right now, is my favorite.”
He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip, and I poke my tongue out so I can lick him. His eyes narrow on me as he pushes his thumb further into my mouth so I can lick and suck him. No, I haven’t seen this side of Chase before. This broody, intense side.
And I absolutely want him.
Once again, he drags his now-wet thumb over my lip, then down my chin and between my collarbones and cleavage. He still can’t see my breasts because they’re covered by the shirt, but my nipples are almost painfully hard from this intense, quiet foreplay.
I glance down, but his hand is on my chin in the blink of an eye, forcing my gaze back to his.
“Eyes. On. Me.”
The intensity makes me swallow hard and the ache between my legs pulses. “Okay.”
“It never fucking stops.” His voice is rough but still calm as he holds my gaze and rubs his fingertips over my clit. “This yearning for you. This absolute need for you, it never goes away. When I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you. If you’re in the room, it’s like you’re a fucking magnet. I have to be with you.”
“I’m right here.”
With my eyes still on his, I reach for the waistband of his jeans. His eyes narrow as I unfasten them, nudge them down over his hips, and feel him spring free. I take his thick, heavy cock into my hand and pump him twice before sweeping my thumb over the crown and feeling the wetness already there.
“I’m right here, Chase. I’m not going anywhere.”
He fists his hand in the nape of my hair and crushes his mouth to mine, kissing me almost desperately as I guide him to me, and he slips inside of me, one agonizingly amazing inch at a time, until he’s seated fully, and we’re both breathing hard, staring at each other.
“Mine,” he growls. “This is mine.”
“Yours,” I agree before he kisses me again and begins to move. The thrusts are slow but hard, as if he’s hammering the point home that I belong to him, and just like always, he surprises me with not just how he can make my body feel, but the way he makes my heart feel. So full, so freaking happy, that I’m surprised light doesn’t shoot out of my pores. Even when he’s buried so deep inside of me, I can’t get close enough to him.
He picks up the pace, and I lift my legs higher on his sides, feeling the orgasm moving through me. As I let go, he pumps into me twice more and follows me over the edge.
He leans his forehead against mine as we both work to catch our breath, and then he kisses my forehead sweetly. Tenderly.
Lovingly.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks.
“Never.” I shake my head, and, with him still seated inside of me, I take his face in my hands and kiss him. “You could never hurt me, Chase Wild.”
“I love you,” he murmurs, those serious eyes so full of emotion. “I’ve been gone over you for years, Summer.”
“I’m really glad I stopped fighting it,” I reply as love and joy fills me to almost bursting. “Because I love you, too.”
He sighs and closes his eyes, resting against me. I can see the lines of exhaustion on his face. Is this what he was out here agonizing over all night?
“We should go to bed.”
He nods and pulls out of me, then moves over to his washbasin and takes some paper towels from the roll, hurrying back over to clean me up before helping me onto my feet.
“So, what’s the story with this dresser?” I ask him, gesturing to the one I just hopped off of. “Did you make it?”
“Yeah, for Bridger Blackwell.”
“Brooks’s brother?”
“That’s him. He’s not getting it now, though.”
I frown up at him. “Why not?”
“Sentimental reasons. That one stays here. I’ll build him another one.”
