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“I love you.”
Jude stared at me for a long time, his lips parted, eyes blazing, then he dipped his head and kissed me hard. We both moaned when he pushed in deep, thrusting into me with renewed purpose.
We kissed like we made love, madness tinged with the sweetest tenderness. We were sparks and smoke, bright lights and hidden depths. Each time he plunged, my hips rose, taking and always asking for more.
My legs wrapped around Jude’s waist, and his thrusts picked up, becoming faster, but still just as deep. My hips met his each time he plunged, our bellies becoming slick with sweat.
“Ah, god, Tali.” He hooked his arms under my legs and spread me as wide as he could. “I gotta come inside you this time. I need you filled with me.”
The idea of that had my eyes rolling back in my head and my inner muscles clenching. Jude’s weight on me, his skin warming mine, our moans mixing in the air, sent me spiraling in the best way, like a ballerina in the midst of a hundred pirouettes, never getting dizzy. The world whirled around me, but Jude was my steady spot, so I let the ride take me.
My spine bowed with pleasure, heels digging into Jude’s back, urging him deeper, hoping to keep him there. He grunted my name, plunging again and again. His mouth dropped to my neck, and when he came, he latched onto me, possibly marking me with his teeth. On any other day, with any other man, I’d hate that. Not with Jude. I wanted his mark, needed to feel claimed.
He rolled us to our sides so we were nose-to-nose, remaining inside me. I’d always loved how he did that. Even after we both came hard and couldn’t possibly go another round, he stayed buried inside me as long as he could. Like he never wanted our physical connection to end...and often, it didn’t.
We kissed for a while. Lazy, morning kisses. Wet and sleepy, but so very sweet. Eventually, Jude sat up, with me in his lap, rocking me on his still-hard cock. At first, it was tentative, but after a minute or two, we began all over again.
His tongue circled my areolas, flicking my nipples, then wetting them with long, hot licks. My muscles shook all over from the way Jude made me feel, both inside and out. When he touched me and got me off, it was always with honesty. His desire for me and need to bring me pleasure made me feel safe in letting myself go.
With my elbows on his shoulders, I bent my arms and curved my fingers into his hair. The silver mixed with the brown, so handsome and sexy, still caused my heart to stutter. No one else had ever induced a feeling anywhere close to that.
Our bodies rose and fell in languorous, unhurried movements until slow wasn’t enough. Hands gripped my waist, helping me along until we crashed into each other, atoms exploding, mingling, and righting themselves again.
Once our breathing returned to normal, we got up and cleaned ourselves off. I slipped on panties so I wouldn’t be tempted. I needed coffee before I needed more dick.
When I walked into the kitchen, Jude’s back was to the doorway. He was at the stove, cooking eggs.
I laid my head between his shoulder blades and curved my arms around his bare waist.
“Are you cooking for me?”
He patted my hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Nothing fancy. I’m no Teresa DiPietro. Just making eggs for my girl.”
A thought occurred to me, and I scrunched my nose. “Are these eggs six weeks old?”
He glanced over his shoulder, chuckling at my question. “Nah, I got a delivery from the grocery store while you were still asleep. Can’t believe you’d think I’d feed you old eggs.”
“Well…” I slid my hands up his stomach to his chest, “you did accuse me of trying to poison you with berries.”
He turned off the burner and got two plates down from the cabinet. “Considering I want to keep you, murder by poison is pretty much off the table.” He smacked my ass. “Go sit down. Let me serve you.”
Jude’s place was bright, clean, streamline. I liked it, maybe more than my Baltimore apartment. Now that I was here, I didn’t have a great inclination to leave.
He slid into the seat across from me, setting a plate of eggs, an English muffin, and strawberries in front of me. My stomach growled on cue.
He grinned. “Hungry?”
“Can’t think of why I might be so famished.”
He scooped up a big bite of eggs, smirking while he chewed. I waved my fork at him. “What’s that face about?”
He swallowed, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin. “We’re just not going to talk about what you said?”
“What I said? I’ve said a lot of things.”
I wasn’t ashamed I told him I loved him before he said it to me, just as I hadn’t been the first time. But it was fun to tease him.
“Tali,” he grumbled.
