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His strokes drove home faster, harder, and he rolled his hips to grind his pubic bone against her clit. “Feels so fuckin’ good,” he said, voice gravelly and low.
She tested her hands against her grip, but he had her well secured. Pleasure zinged through her lower belly.
He arched a brow. “You okay?”
“More than. Was just testing.”
“Christ, Dani. When I’ve got all my strength back, we’re exploring whatever the hell you mean by that. You hear me?”
Her libido loved the hell out of that promise, so she nodded. Even though her brain posed the inconvenient question about whether there’d be another time, when she’d been so determined that there wouldn’t be a this time. God, she really didn’t want to think. “Harder,” she pleaded.
Sean gave her what she asked for. His hips pistoned into her on a series of hard snaps that hit her just right. The sounds of skin meeting skin, her moans, and his deep, throaty groans surrounded them.
And then he adjusted his position—bracing his upper body above her using the hand holding her wrists, and putting one foot down on the ground. His thrusts came even harder now, faster too, until she was gasping and moaning and right on the verge of coming.
“Aw, fuck, you’re tight. You gonna give it to me?”
“Yes,” she moaned. “So close.”
His hips swiveled when he bottomed out, and it felt so good she had to close her eyes. “Want you to come all over my cock, D.”
The dirty talk in that deep, almost-growl was the end of her.
Her body detonated in a bone-meltingly good orgasm that had her trembling and arching. And crying out Sean’s name.
He didn’t let up on her one bit, fucking her in a way that drew her release out longer and longer until she was nearly dizzy. And then he dropped down on top of her. Giving her all his weight, he hunched his body around her and hammered himself inside her hard and fast and deep. He was all she felt and saw and smelled. Suddenly, his voice filled her ears as he groaned his release, his whole body shuddering atop hers even as his hips jerked.
“Fuck, Daniela,” he rasped as his movements slowed. He brought his face to hers, his eyes searching hers even as he kissed her. And it was shockingly intimate. Possibly the most intimate moment she’d shared with another person in six years. For him to be inside her, both of them raw and spent from the pleasure they’d shared, eye to eye, while he brushed her lips with kisses again and again.
He saw her. He was with her here. She was the farthest away from being alone as she’d been in years.
It was amazing and exciting. It was absolutely terrifying.
“You good?” he asked.
“Yeah. You?”
His grin was sexy and sincere. “I’m fuckin’ terrific.”
She chuckled, trying to ignore the whirl of emotion spinning in her head and tightening in her chest.
Gently, he released her leg and wrists. “Shit, I hope I didn’t mark you,” he said, staring at her hands.
She brought one close enough to see the dark red rings surrounding her wrist. “I wouldn’t complain if you did.”
One sexy eyebrow shot way up. “Don’t blame me if I remember that for the next time.”
The next time.
He reached between them and withdrew from her, one hand fisting around the condom. “Lemme get rid of this.” Sean pushed off the couch and crossed to the bathroom. It was the first time she’d seen his body fully naked, and he was every bit as impressive as she thought he’d be. The broad shoulders. The way his ink-covered back muscles flexed. The taut roundness of his ass.
And oh, man, that ass. Dead. She was dead.
She heard the sink run, and then he was returning to her, comfortable with his nudity and feeling quite fine if that newly returned swagger meant anything. So she enjoyed the opportunity to ogle him. Because he was really freaking fine. “Wow.”
“I know. It looks like shit, doesn’t it?” His hand went to his chest. “Doesn’t hurt as much now though.”
How could he think that she’d meant her exclamation as anything but appreciative? And it wasn’t the first time he’d been so self-deprecating. “Sean Riddick.”
Her stern tone had him looking at her, his expression full of confusion. “What?”
“Sit.” She pointed at the couch.
“Ooh, I like this game already.” He hurried to sit.
She straddled him, one eyebrow arched. Those big hands cupped her ass, and they felt so good on her that she had to swallow hard. “This isn’t a game, asshole.”
His eyes went wide. “Wait, how did we go from orgasm to asshole in under two minutes?”
His way with words nearly made her smile. Gently, she laid one hand against his chest. “This isn’t ugly to me. It’s an injury. One that means you survived when that fucking truck hit you and scared the shit out of me. I was expressing admiration for your body, not criticizing your appearance. I would never do that, even if you hadn’t just been inside me two minutes ago.”
