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With his head pressed against my slickness, he rolls his hips. I lift my own to meet him. With his eyes on mine, he thrusts in. I grunt, and then moan as he fills me. He strokes my arm as he pulls out, then exhales, pushes in.
“So good… Oh, Gwen…”
I feel him swell as he picks up the pace. I love watching his gorgeous features grow so tight and strained. He swells some more inside me, and I widen my legs. Barrett reaches down and strokes my pussy, holds himself still. I look into his heavy-lidded eyes.
“You feel so fucking good. So tight.” His eyelids sag shut as his fingers work my clit. I pant, lifting my hips.
I look up to see him watching my face.
“Gwen.”
“I love this.”
That’s the last thing he says before I clench around him and he comes undone. He sinks down on me; we roll onto our sides, facing one another, kissing until I laugh, and he groans.
“I don’t want to leave.” It takes me a moment to realize the tip of him is still inside me. He slides out, leaving me swollen and sore.
“I could go all day like that.” My voice is husky, and I’m smiling slightly. I can’t help myself.
Barrett pulls me to him. The way his arms settle around me… I feel closer to him than I ever have. Maybe closer than I ever have to anyone.
I stroke his hair and cheek, and I can feel his body relax. I wrap my arm under his and nuzzle closer. “Sleepy?”
“Yeah.” His voice is gravelly. His eyelids sag as he gives me a rueful smile. “You’re wearing me out.”
I smile. “Good. That’s been my secret plan.” I stroke the smooth skin over his ribcage. “If you fall asleep, I’ll lie here and read.”
“Kelly might text.”
“I’ll check your phone if you want.”
“’S okay.” His lips brush my forehead as his eyes shut.
“Bear?”
His eyelids lift; his mouth curls. “Mmm.” Even when he’s half asleep, he looks at me with warmth.
“I’m glad I met you,” I rasp.
Tears well in my eyes. I hope he won’t notice, but I know he has when he pushes up on his elbow. I blink to see his features tight with worry.
“What’s the matter?”
I think I love you. I shake my head, covering my face with my hand as I tell myself to stop. It doesn’t really work.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is low and soft as velvet. I feel his hands on my hair, stroking firmly, somewhat frantically. “Talk to me, Piglet.”
But I can’t. I don’t even know what I feel. What to say…
He draws me closer, his big body drawing up around mine. He holds me tight in his stron
g arms and strokes my back—and I cry. Because I’m happy now? Because I was sad before? Finally I get a handle on myself and look up at him. I’m surprised to find his heavy brows are pinched together; his whole face looks troubled: anguished, almost.
He just looks at me with hurt on his face—my hurt. His face is such a…mirror, my eyes fill with tears again. His lips, pressed together, soften just a little. His finger traces my jaw.
“I’m embarrassed.” I wipe my eyes, laughing soundlessly.
“No.” He kisses my wet cheek. “Never with me.”
