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Something flashed in his eyes, like the tattoo held a physical weight over him, before he was able to push it away.
“It bothers you?”
He cocked his head to the side, a smile tugging at his mouth as he looked down at me. “A little. But it’s something I have to do for now.”
“If only we could just do what we actually wanted to . . .” I leaned up to brush my lips across the tattoo and whispered, “I would take this weight off you.”
“I would keep you with me,” he countered.
“You say that, but you might get bored if I actually stayed.”
He lifted a brow. “I doubt that.”
Leaning back so he was on his knees, his hungry eyes fell to where I was already bare from the last time. His thumbs went to my wet skin, spreading my lips and teasing my clit as he slid down to my entrance.
“If this is boring, I can stop . . .”
“Oh God.” The words were said under my breath when he slid two fingers inside, his thumb moving back up to my clit.
Pumping his fingers slowly, he pulled them out and trailed them down the line of my bottom. A carnal grin crossed his face when I twisted against the bed, whimpering at the touch.
I reached back, my hands fumbling with the nightstand drawer, searching for the protection he’d bought as he made that same pass again and again.
Each time I wanted to shy away from it.
Each time I wanted to ask for more.
Each time I nearly came undone.
As soon as I had one of the foil packets in hand, I struggled to open it when all my body wanted to do was succumb to his touch.
One hand tortured my clit with teasing touches, the other sought my entrance again, his fingers pushing in roughly a few times before they were trailing back again.
Heat swirled deep in my belly. My body ached with the need for him to keep going, for him to put me out of my misery.
I reached for him, savoring the husky groan that
sounded in his chest when I had his long, thick length in my grasp, my head dropping back when he teased me with the faintest pressure once again.
“Please.”
“Fuck, where’d you come from?” he asked, his voice a gruff rumble.
He released me long enough to roll the condom on, only seconds passing from when his hands left me to when he was pushing into me, a cry tumbling from my lips as he pushed me over the edge.
Wrapping his arms around my back, he lifted me so I was seated on his lap—facing him—then brought me down on his thick length again and again . . . then harder still until I was biting down on his shoulder to silence my screams.
One of his hands lowered, his fingers sliding along the crease of my bottom in silent reminder of the torture he’d just been putting me through. And when he pressed one of his fingers there, pushing in slightly, I fell apart in his hands, sending him into his own release.
My world spiraled into nothing but darkness broken up by the light we created together as waves of pleasure ripped through me unlike anything I’ve ever known.
Beautiful and sensual. Passionate and heartbreaking.
That’s what it had been.
That’s what we were.
I pressed a kiss to where I’d bitten down on his shoulder, trying to cling to this moment as long as possible.
