“Please,” I say again. “I need you.”
Slowly, her fingers push inside me, and I fall forward, my forehead pressed against hers. I squeeze my eyes shut, in awe at how well we fit together, and rock my hips forward, easily matching her pace.
“That’s it,” she says hotly into my ear. “I’ve got you.” Her hand slides up my back, and she leans me back so she can place wet kisses along my collarbone.
It feels like heaven.
Her mouth closes around my nipple, and I ride her fingers, wondering how they’re able to fill me so completely. I match her stroke for stroke, perfectly in sync. Then she curls her fingers just right, playing my body as if she’s proficient, and coaxes out the sweetest, most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced. Her name echoes through the room, a mantra, a chant, a sacred prayer, while bursts of color explode behind my eyelids.
“I’ve got you,” she says again, slowing her strokes and drawing out my climax.
When I’ve given her all I have, I drop my head on her shoulder, and she holds me close.
We’re hot and sweaty and panting, and all I want to do is kiss her. I want to sink into her and lose track of where she starts and I end. But my body shakes, her fingers still inside me, and I clench, wanting to keep them there for a moment longer. I try to tell her how fucking incredible I feel, but all that comes out is a strangled kind of sob.
Her hand is in my hair, her fingers getting caught on some tangles, and she cups the back of my neck, keeping my head on her shoulder.
“I’ve got you,” she whispers.
And I can’t help but think that maybe she’s always had me.
I’m exhausted.
If checkout wasn’t at eleven, I’m pretty sure I’d crawl back into bed and sleep until dinner. I yawn and glance around the fairly crowded restaurant. It looks as if just about everyone in the hotel wandered down to catch the complimentary breakfast.
I find Chloe sitting alone at a table against the back wall, and I practically fall into the chair across from her. “Morning.”
“Morning.” She doesn’t bother covering her own yawn, and I notice she looks as tired as I feel. “No Alex?”
The mention of her name causes my cheeks to burn. I stare at the sugar packets in their little white container and try to relax. Just becauseIknow we spent the night together doesn’t mean everyone elsedoes. It doesn’t help that images of waking up with my cheek pressed against her bare back and our legs entwined flash in my mind. “She’s showering.”
Chloe hums, not giving any indication that she’s aware of the monumental shift in my life.
I clear my throat and try to redirect this conversation to safer ground. “No Thom?”
“Nope.” She puts her chin in her palm like she’s bored.
“Uh-oh. What happened? I thought you two were…you know.Busy.”
“Ugh,” she groans. “We did. Well, we tried.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You tried? Please elaborate.”
She sighs. “He couldn’t get it up.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Unfortunately.” She grabs her water, looking annoyed but not exactly disappointed, which is interesting. “He did let me sit on his face, though.”
“Oh, that’s nice.”
“Yeah.” She crosses her arms on the table. “But what about you? Did you sit on anyone’s face last night?”
Alex and I had a lot of fun trying new positions, but unfortunately, that wasn’t one of them. I kind of wish it was. A wave of heat and arousal surges through my body. It suddenly feels hot in here.
Chloe makes an excited kind of gasp. “You did! Was it that bartender who was hitting on you all night? George? Jacob?”
“Jensen. And no.” I retie my hair and press my hand to the back of my neck, hoping to cool off my skin. “Nothing happened with the bartender. He wasn’t hitting on me.”
