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Blake looked wild, untamed, and full of heat. Sweat dripped down his chest in sensual droplets of salty pleasure. His short hair was unkempt, mussed, and wet from his perspiration, but he had never looked so good to her. Before she could even blink, he moved onto his back and had her above him, straddling him.
His hands were on her waist, and he lifted her, forcing his cock to almost slip out before he impaled her on him. Poppy’s head spun as he did this continuously. All she could do was brace herself with her hands on his chest as he fucked her on his shaft.
Grunts and groans left him and grew louder and louder. She knew he was close. Taking matters into her own hands, Poppy pressed all the way down on him and ground her pussy on his pelvis. A gasp left her when her clit rubbed against the short, coarse hairs of his lower belly.
“Yeah, Poppy. Fuck. Yeah,” Blake said. He tightened his hold on her waist as she took over the rocking motions. Up and down, she moved, sinking harder and faster on his cock until her head grew dizzy from it all. She placed her hands behind her, resting them on his muscular thighs, and worked herself on him with more fervor. She was going to come again.
The taste of sweet release was so close that on the next down stroke, she ground her clit against him. The explosion inside her rivaled a nuclear bomb. Poppy threw her head back and cried out as her pussy clamped down on his cock.
Blake dug his fingertips into her, and his low, animalistic grunt signaled he found his own release. If it were even possible, Poppy felt him harden even further inside her. She collapsed against his chest, their skin sweaty and their breathing cacophonous.
Blake wrapped his arms around her and rolled so they were on their sides facing each other. The heavy length of him was still buried inside her, and spasms continued to travel through her.
For so long, she’d lived in a bubble of hurt. Everyone around her had been so kind and caring, giving her the space and time she needed, but then Blake called her, and everything changed. Even now, with his arms wrapped around her and the euphoric wave of bliss still coursing through her, Poppy could imagine that things would be different.
She had slept with Blake, Jon’s brother. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and she hid her face, not wanting him to see it. Inside were conflicting emotions, and she honestly didn’t know if her tears were for guilt or the immense happiness she felt.
This was real, and she no longer lived in the past. She couldn’t deny how she felt, couldn’t ignore the clear connection between her and Blake, but that didn’t make her emotionless. The steady thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump of his heart lulled her into a deeper relaxation, and she pressed her cheek harder against his chest. She thought he was asleep, but then he kissed the top of her head.
“You’re thinking too hard, sweetheart.”
Poppy sighed, because Blake was right. “I know, but it’s inevitable.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” The husky drawl of his voice was laced with sleepiness.
Did she? He always listened and never judged. “No, not right now.” She just wanted to enjoy this moment where the guilt couldn’t touch her, and she had the warmth and safety of Blake surrounding her. He didn’t respond, just ran his hand up and down her back until she felt the tendrils of sleep curl around her and there was nothing but darkness to sweep her away.Chapter 12Poppy blinked her gritty-feeling eyes open. The bedside clock showed five in the morning. The activities of the night before rushed back to her, and when she shifted, the ache between her thighs cemented those memories.
Blake wasn’t in the bed beside her, and when she ran her hand across the empty space, cool sheets greeted her. It was clear he hadn’t been lying beside her for a while. She decided he probably needed some time alone with his thoughts, but then she noticed him standing on the deck right outside his French doors. He had to be freezing out there in only a robe and slippers.
She slipped from bed and grabbed the comforter thrown haphazardly on the mattress. Images of why the blanket was mussed had her heart rate increasing. She stepped into her slippers and went to the doors. The glass was frosty around the edges, but she couldn’t feel the cold seeping through the glass.
Blake turned when he heard her open the door. Smoke billowed out around him, but it wasn’t when his warm breath hit the frigid air. The scent of cigarette smoke instantly hit her sense, and she frowned.
