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“Off,” she panted, her fingers tugging at his shirt as she tried to find purchase.
Shaking off the shocking realization that he wanted a real future with Hope Morgan that involved commitment and family and white picket fences, he yanked off his shirt in one fierce tug. When he refocused on her, he caught her staring wide eyed at his chest, running her gaze up and down his torso, her lips parted. The look of sheer feminine hunger brought him fully back to his desire, and he chuckled under his breath as he pulled her down the hall to his bedroom.
“Come with me if you want to see more,” he rasped as he waggled his eyebrows.
Behind him, she laughed, a sound that never failed to chip away at the darkness ghosting his heart.
In his room, he edged her to the bed and cupped her face as he gazed intently into her eyes, needing her to know the joking was over. “This is more, Hope,” he said, praying she could read the truth of that statement in his tone and his eyes. “This is so much more than I thought it ever could be. And I don’t know where it’s going, but I know I’ll never be ready for it to stop.”
The way she stared back at him, her eyes dark and unreadable, made his heart pound in his chest, because for a moment he thought she might actually turn away from him. It would crush him if she did, but he was prepared to take it like a man. He’d never take from her what she wasn’t willing to give.
When she danced her fingertips softly over his pecs, lighting his body with a fire of sensations, he shuddered with a wave of relief.
“I’m not ready for it to stop, either,” she whispered.
With one nudge he toppled them both onto the bed behind her, and she gave a startled cry, then a giggle, which died in her throat when he hooked his fingers into the top of her skirt. He tugged it, and her panties, down the length of her killer legs. Then he hovered above her for a moment and just looked at her.
He wasn’t sure how the hell he got so lucky to be given this second chance with another amazing woman, so he wasn’t going to ask too many questions. He was just going to be damn grateful.
Leaning over, he ran his tongue lazily across her nipple. He loved her breasts. Loved the sound she made when he licked them. Loved the way her hands clawed at his back, trying to bring him closer. She was so responsive, turning to fire under his caresses, and he dipped his fingers between their bodies to run them along her core, groaning hungrily at how wet and ready he found her.
She called out his name. Not quietly this time, but loudly, urgently. The sound of it tearing from her lips made him feel like he had a superpower.
Quickly, he shucked his jeans and boxer briefs, grabbed a condom from the nightstand, and ripped it from the foil. Hope yanked the condom out of his hands. Then, gently, carefully, she slipped it over the tip of his erection, her eyes so focused that she looked like she might be conducting an elaborate science experiment. Any laughter he had at the studious look on her face died in his throat when she smoothed the condom over his length with her long, delicate fingers.
“Holy shit, Hope,” was all he had to offer as sensation coursed through him.
After she finished with the condom, she stretched her arms up over her head, lifted her knees, and opened them wide, exposing herself to him in the most intimate way.
“You can make me scream now,” she said, a devilish smile gracing her gorgeous face.
He couldn’t get enough of this woman. In the outside world, she was sweet, smart, gentle, calm. But in the bedroom, inhisbedroom with him, she was turning out to be quite the little vixen. And he loved it.
Accepting her sassy challenge, he drove into her with one powerful thrust. Satisfaction and pleasure shot through him when her back arched off the bed to meet him halfway.
Pulling back out, he rolled his hips forward, slamming into her again.
“Gabe!” she cried.
Christ, she was hot, and tight, and felt so fucking perfect he could have lost himself inside her right then and there. Gripping her thighs, he held her legs tight at his side, forcing himself to exercise some control over his movements.
Within moments, she was writhing under him, calling out unintelligible words that he understood intuitively. She spoke to his heart, which understood every word, knowing exactly what she needed, and how hard she needed it. Together they set a rhythm that had them barreling straight to ecstasy at a record speed. Reaching between them, he thumbed the spot he knew would tip her over the edge and proved himself right when his name tore from her throat—half pant, half scream. Again. And again, and again.
When she came down from the high, he hoisted her legs over his shoulders. Thrusting in at this new angle got him about as deep as he could go. Below him, already spent from one orgasm, Hope moaned.
He urged her on, sliding in and out of her in measured thrusts. His body tightened almost painfully in the desperation for release, but he kept his rhythm controlled. One more time. He wanted to make her comeone more time.
“More?” he asked, his breathing increasingly ragged.
“Yes!” she said frantically, lifting her hips to meet him. “Yes, please yes.”
He shifted, pinning her legs to his chest with one arm as he pounded into her.
She got louder the closer she came to her release, but when she dropped her hands to roll her nipples between her fingers, her neck arching into the pillows under her, it was Gabe who lost it.
Control went out the window. It always did with Hope. Every damn time.
Bucking wildly, incoherent grunts escaped his mouth like a caged animal come loose. And when she reached her climax moments later, her muscles squeezing him even harder and tighter than the first time, he roared her name as his own release slammed through him.
