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I shoved his jacket off his shoulders, and he stopped kissing me to shrug it off. Unsatisfied with the loss of contact, I loosened his tie and pulled on both ends until his lips were back where I wanted them. On mine.
The intimacy I’d avoided my entire adult life, I craved with Easton. I needed his skin on mine more than I’d ever needed anything. I yearned to explore, enjoy, and forget everything else.
He ran his tongue along the seam of my neck to that sweet spot that weakened my knees. Something in me snapped. Too many clothes.
Need. Him. Now.
I unbuttoned his shirt, pressed crazed kisses everywhere I could on his chest. Somehow I managed to get his pants off. He snapped the strings of my thong and added it to the ever-growing pile of ruined clothes.
He slid his hand under my strapless bra at the same time I dove mine under the waistband of his boxer briefs. He was long and thick and hot in my hand. I squeezed and he groaned, mimicking the movement on my breast.
I had to see him.
In seconds, I had him naked. I pushed him toward the chair in the corner of the foyer until he landed in it. Before I could hit my knees and take that beautiful beast in my mouth, he caught me by the waist and situated me so I straddled his lap.
Easton pulled one lace bra cup down and sucked on my nipple. I ground my center against him, and he grazed his teeth against my pebbled flesh. He ran his powerful hands up my back before he unhooked my last remaining piece of clothing.
I gripped his shoulders and crushed my mouth to his. Our tongues collided. Hands wandered. Flesh heated.
He traced a finger around my hip, circling until he homed in on my sex. I jerked when he swiped between my lips. He slipped inside to his knuckle, and I dug my fingernails into his shoulders. I was soaked and ready. As good as his finger felt, it wasn’t enough. I needed him.
I fisted his shaft and guided the tip next to his hand.
“There’s a condom in my pocket,” he said hoarsely.
I blinked at him, taken aback that I’d been so consumed by desire that protection hadn’t even crossed my mind. I was always safe. I didn’t fuck without a condom. Period. “I’ve never . . . without . . .” I stretched to reach his pants and fished the foil packet out of his pocket, placing it in his upturned palm. The need to make him understand I didn’t fuck stupid or blind was urgent.
“Good.” The satisfaction was evident on his face as he ripped it open and rolled the latex over his length. He hoisted me so I hovered just above his cock. “This is the last night there will be anything between us when we make love.”
I swallowed hard and found my voice. “I trust you.”
His chest compressed on an exhale. “Mulaney . . .”
“Do you trust me?” This wasn’t just about sex with no barriers. It mattered to me that the man I was about to make love to felt something for me beyond fleeting lust. I couldn’t do this if he didn’t. Because with Easton, this was bigger than a night of pleasure.
“More than anyone else.”
The pressure that had built up inside me released. How much that meant to me was startling. How much I craved his faith in me was never more evident. I wanted to give him the gift I’d never given anyone.
I wrapped a hand at the bottom of his shaft before I removed the condom and tossed it on the floor.
“Fuck, Mulaney. Never with anyone else.” His expression was one of awe. Disbelief. I felt the same.
“Same. Only you,” I said. “Only you.”
I’d had life-altering moments, my first choosing to stay on that porch with Granddaddy and Mr. Carter when I was a little girl. That had sealed the course of my ship, taking it in a direction it never would have gone otherwise. Buying Ragnor was another. It should have been cut and dried, but having the connection I did with him had fundamentally changed me in ways I wasn’t sure I even realized.
The second I lowered onto Easton, the very moment we became one, a sense of recognition came over me.This.It felt so good. Soright. The connection was irreversible, and not only because he was inside me physically.Only him. Only this man.I had allowed him into places I’d kept everyone else out of. He moved right in as if he belonged there, and in my mind and my heart, there was no doubt he did.
Sex had been about physical release, a way to blow off steam. But with one motion, it became spiritual. I could never go back to meaningless encounters again. They would never satisfy me the way he did. My soul had recognized its partner before my mind ever considered it.
I opened to him, accepting his length until there was no more of him to take. We sat there in awe for what seemed like hours, staring at one another, letting this fusion between us happen naturally. He thrust up into me and pressed my clit.
The orgasm slammed into me. My walls clamped around him, and he groaned, watching as I came undone. The power of my release was potent, as if I’d been building up to it for a lifetime.
When Easton could take it no longer, he lifted and lowered me onto his shaft. Each stroke stretched my orgasm, rolling one into another. As promised, I screamed his name like it was the only word I knew. The chair screeched against the floor, our fucking so furious I heard the wood crack under the strain. Neither of us could stop, didn’t care if we ended up on a pile of splinters. We’d started this, and there was nothing that could keep us apart.
I detonated again, and this time he was right there with me, flooding me in a rush that seemed to go on for days.
