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“I love the way you reach for me,” he said, and I didn’t know if he knew he had said it out loud.
I looked at him, watched his strong body mold against mine as he entered and retreated over and over. A sheen of sweat covered his chest.
He had asked for more. So I continued to reach out and ran my nails over his abs again. He smiled a little and let my hips rest against the floor once more, then lay on top of me, covering my whole body. His chest pressed against mine as he worked my body over the edge, kissing my lips. I threw my arms around him.
“I feel you, angel,” he rasped against my lips. “All of you.”
The way he whispered the last part made another puzzle piece snap into place. He told me once he saw me. Really saw me. I never clung to anyone. Never clawed. Except for him. And he realized that before I did. More importantly, he realized why I did it: Because I was terrified of losing my grip. On him. On me. So I clung. Hard. With all my strength.
And he took it.
Love the way you reach for me . . .
I repeated his words in my mind and a sting threatened my eyes. Every time with him grew more and more intense.
“Please take me,” I said, and if I were honest, take was the wrong word. It was stupid, but pleading the one word that terrified me more than anything swirled in the back of my mind.
Love.
Love me.
I bit my lip, forcing that notion away, and merely clung tighter.
“Leo . . .” I gasped out his name. I was so close when he withdrew completely and spun me onto my stomach. The soft rug tickled my nipples. He grabbed my hips, hoisted me up and entered me again.
I cried out his name. Feeling him everywhere. Reaching around, he lifted me so my back was to his chest. Buried deep within me, one strong arm beneath my breasts, the other slid down my stomach and stroked the little bundle of nerves between my legs as he continued to thrust in and out. My head lolled back and rested on his shoulders.
I kissed his neck, his jaw, loving him with my mouth. Letting him take me. Wrapped in his strength, completely consumed from the inside out, the burn in my stomach shot out like fireworks to every nerve ending. I screamed his name and came so hard, my vision wavered for a moment.
“You’re everything,” he said and with a few more pumps, came right behind me.
His breath hit my neck, and his muscles were tight and hard as his chest rose and fell against my back.
Continuing to hold me, he slowly withdrew. When he left my body, I instantly felt cold. And for the first time, I wasn’t in a hurry to run off.
Leo took care of the condom, then came back to me. I sat on the floor, looking down at my flushed skin and buzzing body. When he stood before me, looking at me like a Greek god from the heavens, I said the only piece of truth I could, “I don’t know what to do.”
His gaze skated over my face. Without saying anything, he knelt, and picked me up like I weighed nothing. Cradling me in his arms, he carried me toward his room. My shins dangled and I clung to his neck. He laid me down on his bed, then crawled in next to me.
The thick blankets devoured me and his arms wrapped tightly around my body.
“Stay,” he said, and kissed my earlobe.
Taking a deep breath, I whispered, “Okay.”
He hugged me tighter and the warmth I’d been craving lingered. My eyes fluttered shut and all I thought about was what a wonderful moment this was, and that it had no chance of lasting.
But I desperately wanted to be lost in it. If just for one night.
His hand slid up my thigh . . . slowly . . . slowly. It was dark. I turned to see him. Eerie eyes and haunting face. Frank. He pinned me down and tugged at my nightgown—
“No!” I said, but the words didn’t come out. His sick grin made me want to retch and his hands dug into my thighs, parting them.
“Help!” I screamed and kicked. I clawed at his eyes, his skin—
“Paige . . . Paige . . .”
My eyes opened and I saw Leo next to me, cupping my shoulders. “It’s okay.”
