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The dizzy answer made him laugh forcefully enough to jiggle his digits inside her. She moaned, a whisper away from another climax.
“Oh, you’ll come. Don’t worry. Now, on your knees for me.” He slapped the inside of her thigh, and she fisted the sheet, trying to remember how to get her boneless limbs to work.
Thankfully he helped her into position, facing her away from him. He sculpted her ass in his hands, hard enough that she wondered if he’d threaten to spank her again as he had the other night. If tonight he’d actually do it.
She blew out the candles one by one, grateful for the small bedside lamp she’d turned on earlier. The rip of a foil packet made her wonder where he’d tucked away the condom, but then he was parting her damp thighs and seeking her opening, forging forward with a tentative thrust. She started to tell him not to be careful when he drew back and slammed into her, jiggling the candles in their pools of wax. Shaking her down to the core. She cried out, her fingers digging into the shelf. His pinched her hip, holding her still even as he continued his unending drives deep inside her.
She tried to speak, to share what was happening to her, the pressure, the heat. But she couldn’t find the words, and he wouldn’t stop battering into her again and again. She crawled up the bed, and he yanked her to a half-standing position on her knees until she was practically flush against the headboard, trapping the pillows between her pelvis and the wood. They added that much more friction to his strokes, cushioning her clit while he pumped into her with frenzied precision.
“Bry.” It was all she could manage.
“I’m here.” He smoothed a kiss over her shoulder and unraveled her more completely than if he’d offered her a million romantic words.
Her heart turned over, beating too fast. She couldn’t catch her breath, especially after he caught her chin, dragging her back so he could fuse his mouth to hers. The taste of herself on his tongue propelled her over the knife’s edge into pleasure. She cried out again, lost to him, so freaking lost. And he banded his arms around her, cradling her body against his while he surged deep and finished inside her in long, pulsing bursts of heat that made her whimper.
She collapsed on the bed. He disposed of the condom and joined her, bundling her into his arms. His lips brushed her temple, and he murmured soft, soothing things she never would’ve expected from him. She was still shaking, but by God, so was he. It felt like they’d gone through something epic together, a journey so much more complete than just simple sex.
Simple. As if anything between them had ever been that.
“Whoa. Wow. That was amazing.” When he didn’t reply, she let out a laugh. “Guess I better start practicing learning how to keep my hands off you in public if we’re really going to the wedding together.”
For a moment after the words left her mouth, she didn’t move. Barely even breathed. Orgasm brain was an actual syndrome, she was almost positive.
>
That had to be the reason why she’d brought up the wedding when things were going so well between them. Because she knew the score. Hell, she’d been keeping a running tally in her head all along.
She stole a glance over her shoulder at his relaxed face. His eyes were closed, so she feathered his fingers over his arm, tenderly stroking. “You awake?”
“I’m awake.”
“I’m sure you are. It’s probably hard for you to sleep here.”
His chuckle sounded forced. “Oh, I’ll get there. I’ve gotten surprisingly used to this tin-can-sized bed of yours.” His thumb rubbed the inside of her elbow, and she shuddered. If he kept that up, she wouldn’t be sleeping for quite a while yet. Her heart might be easy to bruise, but her body was damn near shameless. “Sorry, what were you saying before?”
She might’ve been happier to repeat her statement if he hadn’t asked the question like she was about to announce she’d infected him with leprosy. “I was just saying I’m not sure if I’m up to keeping my hands off you in front of everyone.”
“Yeah, me either.” But he sounded so distant that she didn’t want to keep this topic going. In fact, she wanted to slam the lid on it and label it off limits.
“Are you ever not sure about anything?” she asked, laughing weakly. “That’s not the Bryan Townsend I know.”
His silence caused her to roll over to look at him. “Hey,” she said, touching his tensed jaw. “That’s not a bad thing. I’d kill for some of your confidence.”
He gazed over her head, his expression unreadable. “You really do think I’m a cocky SOB. Just rolling my way through life, banging babes, getting drunk, enjoying every minute.”
She winced. “I try not to think overmuch about the banging babes part, but yeah.” She stroked his jaw until he slid his gaze her way. “Though I can’t argue with the results,” she teased.
“I haven’t slept with anyone in close to six months. Just so you know.”
Yeah, there was that whole not breathing issue again. Right on time. “Other than me, you mean.”
“Other than you,” he agreed quietly.
So he wasn’t as fickle in the bedroom as the press had led her to believe. One more reason to make her wonder why he wouldn’t go public with her at the wedding. Yes, they’d had good reasons to keep things discreet—for Vic, for the tabloids that were stalking him, for her own peace of mind to limit questions after he’d gone—but it was getting harder to accept why she couldn’t tell anyone about the best thing that had ever happened to her.
Meanwhile, the sand in the hourglass was slipping away.
“I’ve been thinking,” he began.
