He rested his forehead on hers, set up an easy rhythm. Sloane held him close, breath panting across his cheek, hands shaking. She met each thrust, teeth worrying her bottom lip, chest heaving.
Time blurred into the background, nothing registering but the smooth press of her skin, the needy little moans that raked across his shoulder. He fought the pressure building in his groin, determined to show her how much she meant to him.
That he’d more than fallen, too.
Sloane clung to him, her body strung tight, her mouth locked on his shoulder when she inhaled. “Nick… God, I… I need…”
That set him off. Had him flipping her over like he’d imagined, her hands fisted around the headboard, her ass cushioning every thrust. He ran one palm up her spine, threaded his fingers through her hair, then pulled, levering her up until her back pressed against his chest.
He nipped at her ear, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. “This is how I want you. Up here, with me.”
He upped the pace, one of her hands going to his wrist as he wrapped his arm across her chest — kept her anchored to him. Her head fell back across his shoulder, every firm stroke dragging a hushed moan from her lips.
The bed squeaked, rising above the wind as he took her to the edge, stopped.
Sloane inhaled, muscles clenching. “No, Nick, god…”
He pulled out, spun her until he’d positioned her beneath him again, every inch touching. “As much as I want to finish like that, I need to watch you shatter even more. See the flush color your skin. Know it’s my name on your lips.”
He slammed home, hips pumping, the entire bed rattling, as he brought her back up and kept her there. Her breath caught, head tipping back as he smoothed one hand down over her hip, tilted her ass — hit that spot again.
She broke.
Body shaking, arms wrapped around his back as he pushed into her a dozen more times before giving in to the rush of heat — letting the fire drag him down. He collapsed on top of her, breath wheezing, every muscle contracting at once.
Sloane pulled him closer, head pressed into his neck, nonsense words whispering over his skin as he floated in the aftermath, the constant strum of her heart finally bringing him back.
Fatigue weighed heavy on his shoulders as he rolled onto one elbow, praying he hadn’t crushed her into the mattress. He cupped her jaw, smiling when she had to blink several times before focusing on him, her gorgeous green eyes brighter than he’d seen them in years.
He brushed her cheek. “You okay?”
She snorted, but he didn’t miss the way her chin quivered. Just like before. “Ask me, again, once I’ve recovered because that…”
“Not sure I’ll ever truly come down, but I like your optimism.” He grabbed some tissues off the night table and cleaned up. “Is that enough, or are we braving an even cooler shower?”
“Get my ass anywhere near that cold water, again tonight, and I’ll shoot you in yours.”
“That almost sounds like a challenge…”
“Nick…”
“Someone’s a bit touchy considering the endorphin rush.” He laughed, pressed a soft kiss on her lips. “Think you can sleep, now?”
“I could’ve slept before.” She yawned, looked as if she was already halfway there. “Pretty sure I’ll be slipping into a coma, now.”
“I can’t help it if you drive me wild. One kiss and…”
And he was lost.
Sloane beckoned him down for one last kiss, then rolled onto her side, snuggling into him, his arm over her waist, their feet entwined. He kissed her neck, smiling when she shivered before drifting off, her breath deepening a moment later.
Nick listened to the steady cadence of her breathing, her heartbeat echoed in his chest as the wind died down, a few seagulls calling out over the ocean. A horn sounded somewhere in the distance, the lingering note slowly fading. He closed his eyes, drifted off, until a hushed scuff sounded beside the bed.
One second later, and he had his Sig in his palm, his body shielding Sloane as he levered up, swept the room. A hint of gray light brightened the edge of the curtains hiding the salt-smeared window, but it didn’t touch the deep shadows lining the walls. A lone silhouette hovered next to the bed, weapon outlined against the backlight.
The guy stilled, hands raising to his sides. “Whoa, easy, Colter, it’s just me.”
Nick groaned, fell back on the bed. “Jesus, Buck, I damn near shot you.”
