Page 69 of 6 Clues Your Nemesis Loves You

My Maggie fantasies didn’t do her justice.

I rise over her and drag my forearm over my mouth, loving the taste of her on my tongue. “That was so fucking hot.”

She reaches for my aching cock and gives it a squeeze. “I need you in me.”

“You and me both.” I fit myself between her thighs, but I pause. My dick is on fire, desperate to sink into her. But my heart’s beating faster, swelling so large it jams up my throat. “You’re sure you want me inside you bare?”

The question is quiet but serious. If she freaks out for any reason after this, I will not be okay. This quick-witted, complex woman, who undoes me with a flash of her smile, has embedded herself under my skin.

She runs her hands down my chest, along the V of my hips, until she has my length in her grip. “I’m sure.”

Clearly, I did something right in my lifetime.

We shift together, my hips nudging forward as she places me at her opening. She doesn’t move her hand like I expect. She leaves her fingers there, feeling me as my length pushes slowly inside her, a ridiculously hot move that has me nearly blacking out. She’s a vision in shades of bliss. So damn sexy, squeezing me with her inner walls, touching my flushed cock as a rosy blush decorates her breasts.

Unable to keep still, I push in farther, the heat and pressure while bare blazing across my skin. The intensity is more than I expected. Everything about Maggie has always been more than I expected. The posh snob during the day, acting like a silly shark at night. The girl who ignored me in school, telling me her secrets at our pond. The woman who’s done nothing but fight our connection, inviting me into her body.

I’m not sure how I got lucky enough to have Maggie Edelstein in my bed. I’m not sure how I’ll sleep in here again without drowning in fantasies of her.

“Fuck, Mags.” I thrust deep, bringing us flush. “How do you feel this unreal?”

She shifts under me, moving her hand away from where we’re joined. She sighs as her body softens, giving me more access. “How can you feel this unreal?”

“I promise, your tight pussy feels better.” Always a game with us, one-upping each other.

I pull my hips back, kiss her as I sink in deeper, rolling my body with the move. We set a rhythm, parting and joining, my hand on her breast, hers on my ass, both of us still touching our fill. When I pause and keep us flush but rock my hips forward, rubbing her deep, she arches her back with a throaty “Yes.”

My inner sex-savant takes a bow.

I give her more of that—long, dragging thrusts, followed by deep pushes that shake my bed and her body. She digs her knees into my waist, rocking against me, getting louder, moving more frantically. I pump harder, no longer able to hold on. I’m close, my legs on fire, a volcano of energy rolling at the base of my spine and tightening my balls. I push up quickly, needing her eyes. Those green beauties on me when we fall apart.

The second we connect, her eyes flare, turn watery and red. My eyes and throat burn with all I’m not saying. The love I felt for her as a teen expands so fast, I can’t imagine my chest won’t burst from the pressure.

Abruptly, she closes her eyes, clenches her body tighter. I’m too far gone to force her eyes back on mine, plunging so fast and deep stars spark in my periphery, obliterating any other thoughts but this moment. Maggie. Yes. Finally.

She comes first, moving faster, tugging my hips as she contracts and calls my name. I tip over after her, coming with her name on my tongue, an ache in my chest, and my body spasming with a release so intense I’m shaking.

She pushes her hands through my hair after, rubs her cheek against my beard. “That was amazing.”

Aftershocks continue stealing my sense, as does the hot rush of my release coating us both. I move my hips, getting off on all that wet heat, refusing to slip out of her. “We need to do that again.”

“Are all hipsters this good at sex?”

Laughing, I bury my face into her neck. “Nope. Just me. Not that you’ll ever find out, since you’ll only be having sex with me for the rest of your life.”

She stills under me, and I give myself a mental slap.

Way to go, idiot me. Delving into future talk when Maggie can’t even hold eye contact for more than a second during sex is a winner of a move.

I slip out of her, hating losing the connection. “Let’s pretend I didn’t say that, shall we? Except the part where I’m the best at sex. Because I am.”

She twines her arms around my neck, bringing our faces so close I can’t read her expression. “I’m so happy we did this. I want to try to make this work—to get over my issues and trust these intense feelings. You’re worth stepping out of my comfort zone, but like I said last night, I need to take the emotional side of us more slowly. Which means I should probably go.”

I frown. “Go?”

“I’m not ready to sleep over yet.”

My stomach sinks. As does the rest of me, deeper into the mattress. “Yeah, sure. Okay.” Continued patience on my end is needed, which makes sense. She went through more than I realized after I left. She has to learn to trust herself with me and believe I won’t inadvertently hurt her again. “I get it. We’ll go at your speed.”