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I try to hold back my laughter, but fail. “She knows the rules. You didn’t have to go to that extreme,” I say as I splutter with laughter.
“She’s not getting hurt on my watch,” he grumbles. He stalks toward me, leaning over the bed and pressing his lips to mine. “I take care of what’s mine,” he says before kissing me again, pushing his tongue past my lips. Leisurely, he strokes my tongue with his, reminding me of our one and only night we’ve spent together. “Tell me what you want, Ris.”
“You.” He moves to stand between my legs, and I can feel how ready he is through my thin cotton shorts.
“Tell me what we are.” His lips venture across my cheek and down my neck. “Tell me we’re official.”
“We don’t have to be to do this,” I remind him.
He stops, pulling away his eyes to find mine. “Yeah, in fact, we do. I’m not playing games here, Larissa. I meant every word I said. I want to take us beyond the bases, baby.”
My heart’s racing but I’m not sure if it’s from him and his touch, his tender kisses against my heated skin, or if it’s from the words about to come out of my mouth. “We’re official.”
“Yeah?” he asks, his dark eyes sparkling.
I nod.
“Can we tell Paisley? I don’t want to hide this from her. I’m just as enamored with her as I am you.”
She’s already attached to him; I’ve let that happen. What’s the point in holding out on him now? “Yeah, we can tell her.”
He crashes his lips to mine. “Need you now.” His hands go to my shorts and he begins to work them over my hips. I lift, making it easier for him. Once he slides them down my legs, panties and all, he tosses them on the floor. “How long does she nap?”
“We don’t have much time,” I pant. Her naps are shorter and less frequent the older she gets. I have a feeling I would have had more of a fight on my hands if it weren’t for Easton telling her naps were good.
“Then I better get to work.” Stepping back, I watch as he unbuckles his shorts, pulls a condom from his pocket, then grips and tugs down his shorts, along with his boxer briefs to the floor. My eyes are glued to him as he strokes himself. “Like what you see?” he asks.
“Meh, you know how to work that thing?” I ask, and he looks horrified at the question.
“Really, Larissa?” He’s stroking himself with one hand and running his fingers through my folds with the other.
“I think you should show me,” I say, raising a brow in challenge.
He laughs and shakes his head. “I’ll show you.” He reaches for the condom.
“You had me pegged as a sure thing?”
“No.” He shakes his head vehemently. “I just wanted to be prepared. I know I can’t keep my hands off you, and on the slim chance we were able to end up in this very spot, I wasn’t letting something like protection keep me from being inside you again.” Quicker than I anticipated, he has the condom on and is bracing his hands beside me on the bed. “You’re gonna need to be quiet,” he says.
I’m just about to tell him that Paisley can sleep through anything, when he pushes inside me. My hands grip his back and my eyes close. I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out. She can sleep through anything, but I definitely want her to sleep through this.
Easton smiles down at me and then swivels his hips. “You still think I don’t know how to use my… bat?” he asks, smirking.
“Mmm, the jury’s still out,” I manage to groan, goading him. I know damn good and well he knows how to use what the good Lord gave him. My taunting spurs him on as he lifts my legs and sets one on each of his shoulders. Gripping my hips, he begins a relentless pace. Over and over, he thrusts inside me, and all I can do is hang on for the ride.
“C-close,” I pant, my orgasm looming. He takes that as his cue to roll his hips and speed his thrusts all at the same time. I’m not quite sure what’s going on, but whatever he’s doing, I don’t want him to stop.
Ever.
My nails dig into his skin and my orgasm crashes over me. “I’m with you, baby,” I hear him say, and then there’s nothing but ringing in my ears as pure bliss takes over my body. Easton is only the second man I’ve ever been with, and nothing in my past compares to what just happened. Well, unless you count our first time together. Actually, any time with him always feels better than the time before. He’s magical that way. Then again, maybe it’s us. Maybe we’re magical together.
