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She swallowed thickly. “You’re a good man, Teague Simon,” she replied, glancing up at him. “But we’re only halfway there and I want to hit the finish line.”
With that, Sabrina pushed him back onto the chaise lounge and then she climbed on top of him. She didn’t say a word and neither did Teague. Slowly she slid her body over his, taking him in as far as she could.
The feel of Teague inside her was bittersweet, but she pushed all conscious thought away. She only wanted to think with her body. Only wanted to think about how wonderful it was to be here with him.
Slowly she began to move, enjoying how Teague filled her. Enjoying how his body stretched hers to the limit. Enjoying the connection.
Sabrina rode him until the veins in his neck stood out and the grunts of pleasure that fell from him got louder. She rode him until that pressure began to build inside her, until the both of them slammed against each other as desperately as the waves that broke along the beach.
When they came, it was a shuddering, moving, hot, and sweaty affair. It was guttural and basic and so damn fulfilling that it brought tears to her eyes. Sabrina bent forward, resting her head on his chest, listening to his pounding heart and knowing that hers sang the same song.
Moments passed—many moments—and still he was inside her. Still she didn’t want to leave. Still she didn’t want to give up what he’d given her.
But they couldn’t stay this way forever and when Sabrina lifted her head and met his gaze, everything went quiet. No more beating heart or breaking waves. No more breaths falling frantically or bodies moving against each other.
There was only Teague watching her. Seeing her—all of her.
“You’re crying,” he said roughly, his long fingers wiping away the tears from her cheeks.
“Yes.”
Something flickered in his eyes. “Why?”
Did she share this with him? What this had meant to her?
“I forgot what it’s like to feel alive.” Her words were so low she wasn’t sure that he could hear her. “I forgot what it’s like to not feel
lonely or sad or hopeless. I forgot how amazing sex is. Thank you,” she whispered, suddenly cold and vulnerable and unsure. She would have gotten up and left but he pulled her back to him and she couldn’t turn from his warmth. Not yet.
Teague kissed the top of her head. He exhaled and murmured, “You’re welcome.”
All the pain that Sabrina had held inside for so long came crashing to the surface. She couldn’t stop the flow of tears but then she didn’t have to. Teague held her for as long as she needed him to and then he took her inside and cleaned her up.
He got dressed and waited until she was in her pajamas and then, with a kiss, he rested his forehead against hers.
“I should go,” he said.
I don ’t want you to.
He swept his mouth across hers once more and was gone before she opened her eyes.
Sabrina turned off the light and slid onto the sofa. She grabbed a pillow and crushed it to her chest, eyes on the lake beyond the windows. She wasn’t sure how long she stared off into the darkness, not really seeing anything.
She’d slept with Teague Simon. She’d had sex with a man who wasn’t her husband.
It had been wonderful and scary and she had no idea what tomorrow was going to bring, but for now she was content. For now there were no more tears.
Chapter Seventeen
Teague opened one eye and found a pair of golden brown ones staring right back at him. He immediately tensed, muscles bunched and ready for whatever was coming.
“I thought you were dead,” Harry said, his voice trembling, his little face pinched and white.
Stand down. Teague rolled over and rubbed his eyes tying like hell to loosen up.
“You scared me.”
The little guy looked so upset that Teague reached for him and patted him on the shoulder—a little awkwardly, but hell, give him points for trying. He was still getting used to having kids poking about his business.
