Page 79 of Rogue Wave

I was making shameless sounds, and I didn’t care. His rough, calloused hands held my thighs open while his tongue worked its magic on my hypersensitive nerves. That beard made everything feel exponentially better.

“I love that you’re so wet for me already,” Hank murmured against my skin.

Maybe it was the fact that he’d told me he loved me, or maybe it was just Hank on his own, but I was already barreling toward an orgasm, and my clothes had only come off two minutes ago.

One of his hands moved to meet his mouth at my center. My hips lifted on their own to press toward his hand, needy for more. Suddenly his thumb was on my clit, working circles around it with just the right amount of pressure.

“Yes. More. I’m so close,” I panted, my heart racing.

As he rubbed up and down, two of his fingers finally entered me, and I nearly launched the lower half of my body into space from the jolt of his touch.

The wetness from his tongue, the rough scraping from his beard, and the pressure from his fingers as they curled inside me all combined, and I came undone.

“Hank,” I whispered over and over as my orgasm wrecked my body until I could no longer move at all.

I vaguely recalled hearing rustling and Hank mumbling words, but I was in my own universe of happiness.

“Hazel, look at me, sweetheart,” he said, and I forced my eyes open.

I smiled at him, and it probably resembled a loopy, drunk grin, but I didn’t care.

In my descent from my high, Hank had apparently already donned a condom because he stood in front of me, ready to go.

He leaned in, dragging the tip of that beautiful cock across the epicenter of me, and shivers raced across my skin as I moaned something unintelligible.

Hank slid inside me in one quick thrust. “Oh, fuck me.”

“Yes, that’s the idea,” I replied.

The mix of groaning and a growling noise that he made when he was fully inside me was one I wanted to hear every day for the rest of my life.

He was pushed inside to the hilt but unmoving.

Men always said their brains stopped working during sex, so maybe he didn’t know he’d paused.

“I need you to move,” I told him just in case he hadn’t realized he’d pushed in and then just stopped.

He gave no reply, so I decided to move for him because I needed the friction. I shifted my hips, getting a little bit of movement, but his hand went to my hip and stilled me.

“Wait.” His voice was strained, almost like he was in pain. “Fuck. I should have given you another orgasm before I pushed into you. I knew you’d be the death of me once I got inside you.”

In a roundabout way, that was a compliment. At least, I thought so.

“Hazel.” Pure need hardened and roughened his voice.

Finally, he moved. He took his merry time as he slowly thrust in and out of me, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Take it just like that,” he said as he eased almost all the way out, teasing me with just the tip before pushing back inside.

God, the torture this man gave me was the absolute best kind.

“Yes, Hank,” I mewled, lifting my hips to meet him thrust for thrust.

I could feel myself getting close again, and I wanted another. I didn’t care if that made me greedy—I wanted it.

“I need more, Hank,” I begged, and that caused something in him to snap.

The new pace he set was aggressive, and I couldn’t get enough.