Page 65 of My Favorite Hero

I swallowed, my throat suddenly feeling dry. It was how I lived my life. Nothing new or unusual. I never stayed in one place long enough to form attachments, so this was no different. Yet, I had no idea why my words hurt to say.

“And we keep it private,” he added. “We’re not advertising this to the world.”

I was fine with that. I had no desire for people to know my business.

“Nothing to know. It’s only between us and temporary,” I assured him.

He sat back. “You’re an unusual woman, Pixie.”

“Back at ya, big guy.”

I got up, putting away the snacks. I leaned against the counter, looking at him. He stared back, his gaze heated. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck lift and goose bumps erupt on my skin.

“So, no sleepovers…” I started.

He stood, stepping in front of me. “But I’m already here,” he finished.

“Right.”

He dropped his head to the crook of my neck, his lips warm on my skin. “Might as well take advantage.”

I gripped his shoulders as he bit down, sucking the skin between his lips. Marking me.

“Might as well.”

He lifted me to the counter, standing between my legs. He was hard. So very hard. I wrapped my legs around his hips, drawing him close and rubbing against him.

“Jesse,” I murmured, a plea in my voice.

“I’ve got you,” he growled. “I’ll take care of you.”

I gasped as he slid his hand to where I was desperate. He teased my clit, stroking me, then slipped one thick, long finger inside. I whimpered at the sensation, moaning into his mouth as he kissed me. He added another finger, using his thumb to apply pressure to my clit. I ground against his hand, letting him work me into a frenzy. He whispered dirty words into my ear. Kissed my neck and cupped my breast, squeezing my nipple. Praised me.

“Come on my hand.”

“Let go, Pix. Give it to me.”

“You’re going to come now, then I’m taking you back up to your bed, and I’m going to fuck you until you scream.”

I was incapable of words. The world was a kaleidoscope of color. Everything swirled and centered on his touch between my legs. The way he commanded my body. Ravished my mouth. Breathed my name.

My orgasm hit me, and I dropped my head back, my body convulsing in pleasure as I rode his hand. He hummed low in his chest, a man proud of his work. Then he pulled his hand out and locked his gaze on mine as he licked his fingers.

My God, the man was sexy.

He swept me into his arms, heading for the stairs. “My turn,” he growled. “And I want to hear you, Casey. Every groan, every whimper is mine. You understand? Loud. I need you loud.”

I had a feeling that wasn’t going to be a problem.

I woke up late the next morning alone. I wasn’t surprised, yet disappointment lingered. He’d carried me upstairs and done exactly what he’d promised, making me scream his name as he fucked me long and hard, then again later, soft and slow, drawing out my orgasm until I was almost weeping with the intensity of the final explosion. Then we fell asleep, him wrapped around me again.

I sat up, touching my forehead. I swore I’d felt his lips press there before he left, while darkness was just giving way to daylight. His warm breath had washed over my skin, and he’d whispered something I didn’t understand, sifting his hand through my hair, then quietly walking away.

Had I imagined that?

I rose from the bed and had a shower. I was sore in places I hadn’t been sore in a long time. But I looked rested and relaxed.

Multiple orgasms would do that for a girl.