Page 60 of Bared

“Perfect.”

How had he yanked the thought right out of her head?

“Perfect,” he repeated, also seeming to know she had to hear it again. “It’s better than all right, Pixie. This is…you are…goddamn!”

Her high yelp coincided with his jagged oath—and his expanding movements. She was aware of him now, sluicing in and out of her quivering core, opening her wider with each of his rolling but gentle thrusts.

Though she wondered how much longer the gentle part was going to hold.

Or if she even wanted it to.

“Brick,” she rasped. “Please!” She held back none of her lusty urgency. If that was what it took to make him trust her in return, so be it.

Brickham rocked his head back enough to put a couple of inches between their faces. “Please what, little Pixie?”

“Do not stop,” she whispered. “Please…do not stop.”

“Not unless there’s an apocalypse, sweetheart.” He leaned in and kissed her again. “No. Screw that. Even there is an apocalypse. Lady, we’re past the point of no return.”

Jayd allowed herself a small smile. She was not sure why. Just the idea of doing this while Armageddon raged outside… Creator have mercy. The heady visual made her even needier. How she reveled in him. His climbing passion. His hardening stalk. His heady scent. All his erotic huffs and growls and grunts.

Ohhh, hell.

Was she…falling for him? Beyond the square-jawed beauty and the too-good-to-be-true body. Beyond all the provocative ways he knew how to use that body?

No. By the saints and sinners, this was not a movie. Physical attraction, no matter how tumultuous, was only that. A biological reaction to primal level chemistry.

And ohhh, how they had chemistry. Enough to double the squares on the Periodic Table. Definitely enough that a person might mistake it for more. But she was not that person. Not anymore. She had this man all to herself for just this night, and she planned on savoring every last moment. Soon, she would not be calling them moments. They would be her memories.

She had to pay attention. To cherish every last detail. Yes, even the one that brought a defined knife of pain.

“Oh!” She stiffened as her inner walls kept screaming. She was stuffed full now, strained in ways she never imagined. It was strange but empowering to feel Brickham’s hardness so far up inside her. Pulsing and stretching against her…

“Pixie.” He swept his lips across the bridge of her nose. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’d be lying.” He dropped his hands to bracket her hips with his grip. The pressure felt even better than his hold at her neck. “Christ on high. I’ve jumped the line into heaven.”

As he pressed his forehead to hers, he also yanked hard on her lower body—bringing the jolt that he still was not all the way inside her. Oh, sweet Creator. This was a doomed plan. They truly were not going to fit. Not at—

“Ahhh!”

Her shriek tumbled out in time to the scorching chain reaction through her breached core.

“Pixie. Jayd,” Brickham groaned out. The exhortation came between his brutal breaths, despite how he sucked down full lungs of air. “Stay with me, sweetheart. We got there, okay? We got there.”

“Got the hell where?” Because if this was the end, she was furious. Was this really what all the fuss was about? The “shooting stars,” “wicked magic,” and “carnal miracle” that she had heard about—ad nauseam—from the three women who possessed her brothers’ hearts? On a mental notepad, she started in on some key talking points for Camillia, Brooke, and Lucy. Because this was, to borrow a favorite from Lucy, some king-size bullshit.

Or so she thought.

Until Brickham took over again.

With a rush of heated strokes, he ran his big hand over her waist, breasts, face, and hair. He stopped only when his palm engulfed her wrists, still caught over her head, and he was squeezing her there in time to his new kiss on her mouth…and his new pushes into her sex. Literally helpless to refuse both incursions, Jayd focused on softening for him. Opening to him.

And soon—so much swifter and hotter than she expected—percolating for him.

“Oh,” she blurted, sounding—and feeling—as if she had just found the secret to world peace. Perhaps she had. Nothing in her life had ever felt this shockingly good this sinfully fast.

And moment by moment, it was only getting better.

Saints on high. What on earth was going on? Her lips were now fields of lightning. Her blood vibrated with mini rolls of molten thunder. Her mind was a storm of both. And her core…