Page 63 of Cruz

Thankfully, it’s a jumbo sized one. If it broke, there would have been no end to my devastation and rage. Okay, there would have been. It might be fun to get dressed, go to the store, and get each other in the mood again.

Not that we’d lose the mood.

Cruz freezes and studies me. I get that feeling that I have something on my forehead, but then I see the light in his eyes. There’s nothing on my face or stuck between my teeth. Cruz just loves looking at me. I let him drink his fill. He sighs, but doesn’t lose that fascinated look.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful. So perfect. I love that flush on your skin. The look of bliss on your face. I love your dark eyes and your swollen lips.” His tongue sneaks out and glides over his bottom lip. “I love that I can taste you still.”

I open my arms and he comes to the bed. He wraps me up and takes me down with him. Like before, I part my legs to make enough room for him. My thighs burn a little, from the stretch of having to accommodate his huge frame. I’ve done far harder yoga positions through sheer force of will. I don’t need any will to get me through this. I’d rather do the opposite. Let go and enjoy the moment, hoping it lasts as long as possible.

Cruz starts slow. He kisses me, drinking me in. My body responds to him, my hips drawing up, searching for him, needing him. My nipples are sharp points that his chest rubs across, sending shivery sensation chasing through my already over stimulated, blissed out body.

I grasp his arms, curling my fingers into his biceps. “You don’t have many tattoos.” Now that I’ve seen him fully naked, I can say that with confidence.

“Is that a problem?”

“Not at all.”

“It’s just that usually rough around the edges guys have more than a few before they belong to a biker club. I have scars, though. Here and there. Not just my knee.”

There’s a red ridge that bisects his knee right down the middle. I did notice that before. It looks painful. No wonder people say knee surgery is so hard to recover from.

“I’ll take my time and trace and kiss every single one,” I promise him.

His thick erection throbs against my stomach. I shouldn’t delay him any longer. I was the one who got to come. He’s likely still tortured as hell. His shoulders bunch under my hands as he rocks forward to kiss me and then back a little to look at me. I love the way his body shifts and moves, love the power just under his smooth skin.

I look up at him and ask him in my sweetest voice. “Would you like to fuck me now, Cruz?”

He groans. “Don’t start with that dirty mouth.” He sweeps down and nips my bottom lip, sinking his teeth in and dragging it out. “Although, I have to say, I really like it. Too much, for the moment. I’m excited to discover everything with you. Filthy words, dirty place, taboo stuff—if you’re into that.”

“Do you feel like you’ll explode?” I shouldn’t tease him. It’s not nice. If it was me who hadn’t come, I’d be begging and pleading, half out of my mind, and soaking the whole damn bed underneath of me.

He considers that. “I do.”

I bite down hard on my lower lip, right where Cruz just had his teeth, to try not to laugh.

He positions himself against my entrance. His cockhead feels so thick and blunt. I’m more than certain about this. I lock my legs around Cruz’s hips, trying to make it obvious that I’m ready. He can take his time. He does need a minute. When I sneak a peek at his face, he’s clearly concentrating. Trying to hold back?

He pushes forward with a flex of his hips, filling me with just the tip. I don’t know how many jokes I’ve heard about that, or read about, over the years, but just the tip is pretty awesome. The pressure is already here. He’s so close to filling me, inch by inch. I barely hold myself back from doing the classic bridge pose from yoga and forcing the issue.

Cruz pushes in another inch with another flex of his hips. He doesn’t stop this time. He keeps going in a slow motion, opening me up, stretching me. He’s so thick and it’s all pressure, all friction, all stretch and delicious burn. He doesn’t stop until I can literally feel his balls pressed up against my ass. How many jokes have I heard about that as well? Balls deep is also a wonderful thing.

I breathe in, filling my lungs, and exhale slowly, savoring every single sensation. I’m getting a whole lot of them right now. I can feel myself pulsing around Cruz just as I can feel him throbbing at the center of me.

“So tight,” he groans.

“So big,” I whisper back.

I grasp his shoulders and dig my nails in, plant my feet hard on the bed, and move with him as he withdraws and presses forward. He sets the rhythm and I match him, lifting my hips so that every stroke goes deeper and sets all my nerve endings firing.

I love when Cruz bottoms out and we’re pressed together, chest to chest, our legs tangled, no space or air between us.

He keeps his strokes slow until he hits so deep inside of me that I gasp and arch up. My walls clench around him. His forehead presses against mine and he sucks in air, needing a breather too.

“Good,” he grunts in a rough tone, voice scraped over gravel. “So good.”

“Yeah.” I run one hand down his back, tracing all his flexing muscles. His skin is slightly damp with a sheen of sweat. I want to bathe in all the heat he’s throwing.

“Can I change it up a little?”