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The hand around her throat tightened as the exact moment his hips ground into her, rubbing her clit, and that was all it took. Makenna shattered with a sharp cry. Blinding light flashed behind her closed eyes, her muscles seized, and her entire system flooded with overwhelming ecstasy. If she could have lived in that moment forever, she would have.
How had she gone so long without experiencing it?
She’d known her life was lacking, but now she knew exactly how much. Not only the physical but the intimate connection they’d shared. The way he’d been able to read her and provide what she’d needed.
“Yes, baby, that’s it,” Thunder said as he continued to fuck her. “God, you’re so beautiful when you come.” His hips flew, propelling her through the orgasm. Within a minute, he shouted her name as his muscles bunched and flexed beneath her fingertips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he yelled, hands moving to her shoulders. He held himself deep, pushing down on her shoulders to maintain the connection.
The sight of him lost to his pleasure fascinated her. She’d done that to him with her body. She’d made him feel as good as he’d made her feel.
“Fuck,” he mumbled one last time before collapsing on top of her.
With the weight of him compressing her chest, she couldn’t catch her breath, but she wouldn’t have changed it for the world. Their sweaty bodies mashed together with their runaway hearts beating side by side. It was life-changing,
“I’m moving,” he grumbled. “In a second.”
She stroked her hands up and down his damp back. “Don’t.”
Now he laughed. “You could barely say the word because you don’t have any air.”
The statement had her freezing up. God, had she really come like that while his hand was wrapped around her throat?
What the hell was wrong with her?
It was crazy, right? Depraved and sick. She was a freak.
Her limbs still zinged with pleasure and a pleasant heaviness. Now wasn’t the time to worry about her reaction to his manhandling. She had Thunder in her bed and planned to enjoy every second of it. Once he left, she could freak out.
With a groan, he pushed up until he hovered over her. Then he kissed her. It was so tender and full of unexpected sweetness, her chest constricted. After, he rolled off her and onto his back. One arm flopped above his head on the pillow, and the other rested on his ridged stomach. Mak couldn’t help but risk a glance at what had been inside her seconds ago.
Spent, his cock lay against his thigh, still covered in the condom, but slick now with the evidence of her desire. The craziest thought crossed her mind and had she been braver and experienced, maybe she’d have given into it and snapped a picture of him with her phone. One to remind her of the time a man brought her to life in a brand-new way.
“Like what you see?” he asked, humor lacing his tone.
Her face heated as she jumped.
Busted. “How did you know?”
Eyes still closed, he shrugged. “I can feel those pretty blue eyes.”
“Guess you’re used to women looking at you.” Oh, my God. She nearly slapped her forehead. Had those words really left her mouth? How insensitive. There he was, basking in the afterglow of what she thought was world-changing sex, and she brought up his job as a stripper.
Smooth, Mak.
But Thunder just laughed. “True,” he said. Then he turned her way.
She watched, entranced, as he pulled the condom off, tied the end, then tossed it in the small trash can next to her bed.
“Come here,” he said, once finished. His voice thickened, sounding heavy with the need for sleep. “Much as I like those pretty eyes on me, I’d rather feel your skin on mine.” He nearly slurred the words.
At that point, Mak was nearly giddy with excitement. This night was already so far out of her realm of experience, she’d had no idea what to expect now that they’d had sex. His leaving seemed the most probable outcome, at least based on conversations she overheard when serving other single members of his club at the diner. None of them seemed keen on spending the night with a hook-up. At least that’s what she assumed when Screw had been telling a story about a time he’d “rocked the box then changed the locks.” Unfortunately for him, Jazz had also overhead, and he’d earned himself a slap to the back of his head.
Mak scooted until they were chest to chest, then inhaled his intoxicating fragrance. The cologne, aftershave, deodorant…whatever it was he used, it drew her in to the point she wanted to rub all over him like a needy cat.
Wait…she just had.
Her face heated, and she peeked up at his face. The man was out cold. Oblivious to her private smile and internal euphoria. The strong arms anchoring her to an equally strong chest were a luxury she’d never experienced in her years of marriage. Not only were her husband’s arms those of a sixty-plus-year-old man who’d never taken care of himself, but they belonged to a man who didn’t give two shits about her beyond her incubation ability and mothering skills. Lying with a man who seemed not only to want her sexually but enjoy her company was a novel experience that could easily become addicting.
