Page 59 of Stud

Pulling my hips back, I eased her up. She looked wickedly pleased, her lips red and used, her cheeks flushed. I flicked her bra clasp and tossed the lace, taking her breasts in my hands, so big and lush. Absolute perfection. Touching wasn’t enough.

Lifting up, I kissed and sucked her supple flesh, taking her nipple between my teeth as she tossed her head back, arching toward me. Her hips moved, searching for friction, but I wasn’t done. I went to work on her other breast, feasting on her, like the desperate man I was, eventually rubbing my face between her tits, happy to drown in all things Ainsley.

Her husky laugh broke my spell. “So you’re a breast man.”

“I’m an Ainsley man. Want it all.” I thrust upward, only her underwear between us.

She whimpered and rocked, her pussy so wet and hot, drenching the thin fabric. Flipping us so I straddled her, I continued worshipping her breasts, the soft skin over her ribs, the dip of her belly button, the swells of her hips, perfectly full and womanly. I couldn’t touch her enough, open-mouthed kisses trailing her from end to end.

When I reached the valley between her thighs, she trembled. “God, yes.”

“You a praying woman?”

“Only if it makes you work faster.”

“Still so demanding.”

“Stop talking and start licking.”

I chuckled, then blew a stream of air over all that wet heat. Her hips kicked and knees trembled. I ground my own hips into the mattress, trying to tame my desire, but being with Ainsley, smelling her arousal, pungent and sweet, had my blood pounding.

I kissed her, exactly where she wanted me. I thrust my tongue into her, grinning as she pushed into my face. I wanted her to ride me, steal her pleasure. Submerge in my own. I held her open and flicked my tongue, working her in a steady rhythm, then pulled back, teasing her, taunting her. She nearly yanked out a fistful of my hair. When her frustrated groan dripped with hunger, I finally gave her what she demanded. Taking my fill, I licked and sucked until she bucked, little shocks shaking her pelvis.

Eventually, she pushed me away. “If that’s a form of religion, consider me a convert.”

I lifted onto my knees. “I love tasting you. Could do it all night.”

Her hooded gaze hovered over my dick, which jutted out toward her, hard and flush. “Sex now.” She gripped my length, giving it a solid pump. Fuck.

I sheathed myself in record time, then pushed into her. I lost track of time, of space. There was no shattered glass by my bed, no divorce looming over me. No financial issues or impossible conversation on the horizon. There was just us, fitting together. Her hands were on me, messy kisses traded, my thighs slapping against hers as I lifted her up, pushing deeper.

Breasts bouncing, she clutched the sheets as I drove into her. I watched where we were joined—me sinking in and out, tight wet heat circling me. Desire blasted up my thighs, driving me from hard to titanium.

She bit her lip and pulled me closer, wrapping her legs around my waist. “You feel amazing.”

“Heaven,” I agreed.

Eyes locked, we rode the high until we crashed. She tipped over first, clenching so fucking tight around me I shot off like a firework, calling her name as the high pummeled through me. We were both shaking slightly, breathing hard. A thin sheen dotted her brow, and I could feel condensation on my lower back, where her fingers danced. My head was hazy.

“Owen?”

The quiver in her voice had my awareness creeping back. “Yeah?”

She pulled my hips farther into her, keeping us joined. “I never thought I’d meet someone like you.”

Her face softened, trust and something more blooming…and my heart reared. I wasn’t sure if it wanted to gallop closer to her or canter away, but this moment wasn’t right. What I was keeping from her tainted it, corroded the beauty of her admission. My answering silence also had her frowning.

I kissed her lips, then pulled out and dealt with the condom. She was on the move, too, probably unsure why I was freezing her out. We got dressed in a distracted hurry. I mumbled something about our dinner. She didn’t glance my way.

This was her pattern: have sex and close down. Get dressed and get gone.

I’d stopped asking her to stay over, the rejection stinging more with each rebuke. Except her confession just now could have been her reaching for a lifeline. If I’d asked her to sleep with me for the night, she might have said yes.

I paused in my doorway, one foot toward getting plates and the Indian food she’d brought and letting us go on like this. Staying in this space where we had unreal sex and laughs, not the intimacy I craved, but no risk, either. My other foot was stuck in my room. Stuck in my past.

Just plain stuck.

It was time to offer Ainsley the honesty she deserved.