CHAPTER SEVENTEENELEANOR
I could survive for weeks solely on the way Adam is looking at me right now. His gaze licks over my bare skin like a flame, leaving goose bumps in its wake. The intensity has me feeling singular, like he’s never wanted anyone this way.
His fingertips tease across my stomach, and my skin is so oversensitized right now I can’t control the way I flail—a response Adam seems to enjoy immensely. I swat his hand away and he relents, folding one arm behind his head and appearing wholly satisfied, despite the fact that he’s very obviously aroused.
It takes a minute for my body to stop feeling like it’s floating, but as soon as I’ve recovered, I roll over to straddle Adam. Immediately, his hands find my hips to hold me in place.
I bite my lip as my hands roam over his ribs and abs, following the line of his happy trail. Adam is still wearing shorts, and he shouldn’t be. I make quick work of undoinghis fly. One of his hands lifts to my neck and pulls me in, only to hesitate with a couple of inches between us, as if he’s unsure I’ll want to kiss him after what we just did. I hover right out of reach, one hand braced on the mattress next to his head while the other slips lower to touch him through his boxer briefs. He’s hard against my palm, and heat starts building between my legs again in anticipation of feeling him inside of me.
Adam moans, eyes falling shut and head pressing back into the pillow. I smile and continue to stroke him gently as I close the remaining distance to kiss him. Adam cups my jaw and tilts my face to deepen the kiss.
I’m still throbbing between my legs, so ready for more. I think about him asking whether I have any lube in my purse and laugh against his lips, but it’s followed by a mood-killing realization.
“Shit.” I pull back. “I don’t have any condoms.”
“I’ve got one in my wallet.” Adam lifts his hips to reach his back pocket, and the friction has me stifling a moan.
“Remind me later to make fun of you for keeping it in your wallet like a seventeen-year-old,” I say, a bit breathless.
He pulls the foil packet out and sets it on the mattress next to him, but instead of quickly shucking the rest of his clothes like I expect him to, he slides a callused palm under the hem of my T-shirt again.
As much as I appreciate his thoroughness, I’m all set on the foreplay. I want more. I grind against him, and I’d be embarrassed about the needy sound I make if not for the way his fingers flex against me in response.
“C’mon.” I tug ineffectually at his shorts. “Off.”
Adam nods. He rucks my shirt up and overhead, thenflips me onto my back andfinallysheds the rest of his own clothes. I hand him the condom and he smirks at my eagerness as he tears the foil open. I watch him roll the condom on, then hook my hand around his neck and tug him back to me.
His skin is warm, his body all-encompassing. My legs slide farther apart to accommodate him, knees hitched up toward his hips. He’s notched perfectly against me, about to push in, and I freeze.
“Wait,” I say, and immediately Adam puts a few inches of space between us. “You haven’t been carrying that thing around in your walletsinceyou were seventeen, right?”
Adam’s head drops and he lets out this ball-busted laugh. When he lifts his gaze again, his eyes glitter with amusement. “It’s new. You gonna ask me if I’m a virgin next?”
“… Well, now I sort of feel like I should.”
He spanks the back of my thigh in retaliation, drawing a sharp gasp out of me. Slowly, he lowers his weight back onto me. His cock is a hard, hot line against the crease of my hip. “No, Eleanor,” he says, lips brushing against mine, “I didn’t save myself for marriage.”
Bold move, mentioning our marriage at this particular juncture. But my comeback is forgotten when he snakes a hand under my back and hitches my body higher up the bed, right where he wants me. My stomach swoops at the display of strength, and my knees tip in to squeeze his hips.
“Any other questions?” His brow arches, and with one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, he drags the tip over my clit.
I shake my head and fist the sheets.
“No?” He smirks, smug as I’ve ever seen him. “Nothing you want to ask for?”
A frustrated groan climbs up my throat. My hands splay across his back, fruitlessly trying to pull him closer. “Please.”
“Please what?” He kisses my collarbone, the swell of my breast. His tongue flicks over a nipple and I whimper softly. He kisses his way back up to my mouth and says: “Ask for what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”
Adam’s assertiveness is irritating as shit when he’s trying to sign the same artist as me, but here? It’s having a markedly different effect. I groan, frustrated and turned on in equal measure. “I swear to god if you don’t start fucking merightnow—”
His answering grin is beautiful. He slides all the way in with one slow, fluid roll of his hips. My mouth falls open with a low moan, which Adam smothers with a kiss.
“Oh,fuck,” he says, tipping his forehead against mine. “You’re perfect.”
I nod, mindless, and hook my heels around him. He cants his hips back and thrusts in again, slow but not gentle.
And then his hand slides between us, fingers deftly finding that bundle of nerves again, and it really is perfect. It’s too perfect, too intense, senses heightened to the point it almost aches. He bottoms out and stays there as he continues to draw light circles around my center. My limbs grow tense as the sensations coil hotter. I tilt my hips, wanting to draw him deeper.
