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Waves of shuttering vibrations kept me moving, grinding and moaning against him. I’m distantly aware that he watches me, drinks in my curves, slick with sweat.
I slow my frantic hips. My body melts around him. My nerve endings celebrate with continuing shocks and tremors.
He kisses my lips, teases my mouth open as he put his hands under my ass, scoops me up, and slides his knees under me. I’m boneless as he drapes my legs, one and then the other, against his chest, my ankles up by his ears.
The elevated position gives him better access. And me less control. Not that I’m complaining.
“Justice,” he whispers, “watching you come is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Then he plunges thick and heavy inside me.
Air breaks from me in a startled grunt.
He moans a rough oath, a gritty promise followed by the single-minded declaration in the slap and slam of his body.
He thrusts deep and fast, but not mindlessly. He watches me so completely, so fixedly, that the action of his hips meets the sighs on my lips. His hard body responds to me, sliding against my pleasure points, teasing helpless cries and soft moans from me.
His own desire lines his brow, tightens his jaw, parts his lips.
When the second orgasm crests inside me, I can see the knowing in his eyes, feel it in the increased speed of his hips.Oh. God. Talk about sexy.
The sharp muscles of his stomach coil. The lines of his biceps stand out as he squeezes my ass and drives into me.
I rock with him, the pressure rolled up so tight, I can’t take it. It’s too much.
The electric, hot feel of him stretching me… the look on his face… the heat of him… Too… much.
I come again, the swell and roll wracking my body, sending me heaving back against the pillow, whimpering and calling out his name. It feels like dying, like nothing exists in the world but the trembling, hot push of his body into mine.
He responds to my cries with a hot groan before he loses himself. Thrusting without rhythm or control, he breaks, hot and heavy, inside of me. Slick heat pulses out from him. I can feel every bit of his release. With a final thrust and moan, something that sounds like willing surrender, he unwinds my legs, then collapses beside me.
Kissing my forehead, he draws me closer, nuzzles my ear. The sound of our heavy breaths fills the room for quiet, comfortable moments. And then he starts laughing.
Okay. Apparently, I’m amusing. Not insulting or anything. Not at all.
He says, “The way you move—all gyrations and fury. Damn. I can’t get enough of it.”
If it weren’t for his tone, a hot whisper of satisfaction, I might find that a bit annoying. “And that amuses you?”
“I love how carried away you get.”
Uh? What? Doesn’t everyone? “You have had sex before, right?”
He chuckles again, moves his head down on the pillow so his mouth is closer to my ear. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. It’s a good thing. You’re easy to read.”
“I’m easy? Careful, charmer.” I grin at him, enjoying this part. Who knew pillow talk could be fun?
He uses his thumb to brush a strand of hair from my cheek. “You tell me what you want with the double-pump action of your tits and hips. And thoseyes-theresighs and the way you beg. Oh God, the way you beg me not to stop. Like I have a fucking choice. Like seeing you moan and grind under me does anything but make me too crazy to do anything but lose myself fast and sloppy inside you.”
Huh. I still don’t get why he’s so amused, but it doesn’t seem like a bad thing. “So, you’re saying you really like having sex with me. Like, it’s the best sex ever. And you’re helpless under the spell of my hot, heaving body.”
It takes him a second before he speaks, but, finally, he does. “I’m saying…” He stops again, thinks, and I realize he’s taking my joke way too seriously. “You asked me earlier if I still like you. I do. A lot. More than I have any other woman in a long, long time. Maybe ever.”
My cold, cold heart melts. He’s not allowed to be so sweet. It makes me feel so guilty. Because, as soon as my transportation is arranged, I’m going to ditch his sweet ass and get back home to run interference with Momma. For his own good, because Momma’s words,“M-erasure is painless,”chills me through and through.
I won’t let Momma take advantage of him anymore. No. He’s sacrificed enough for my mission, a mission that’s in no way his. He’s a good man and should be free to do his good work. Which means keeping him away from Momma.
But, first, I’m going to fuck this deliciously sweet man until his eyes roll back into his head. Fuck him until he can do nothing but pass out. I’ll leave him, yes, but I’ll leave him satisfied—and sans passport, visa, and identification. Good luck getting out of Israel, buddy. No point telling him that. He definitely wouldn’t understand.
I snuggle closer. “Get some sleep, charmer. In a little while, I’m going to wake you up so you can show me again just how deeply you like me.”
