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He leans close and whispers against the shell of my ear, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
I want to say something sweet back, but he cocks his hips just right and my eyes roll back as my breath catches in my throat.
“Especially when I do that to you,” he says, all arrogant and male.
I adore when he gets like this normally—when he knows he’s playing my body just right and keeping me on that edge. But at the moment, there’s too much on the line for me to play along. My emotions are riding my orgasm as much as my body is. One wrong move, and I could ruin everything.
His cock swells inside of me, and hope blossoms. Maybe he will come faster than usual, and I won’t come and accidentally blurt the words I can’t let myself say. I squeeze on him, egging him on. His eyes flutter for a moment, and I’m sure he’s about to. But then he gets a hold of himself, diving deeper with that determined look in his eyes. He’s not going anywhere. He is going to make me come first.
Fuck.
I wish I could say the words. But if I say it this soon, I worry he’ll back off. Or he will think I’m crazy. I don’t know how soon people say those words under normal circumstances. Our relationship has been anything but normal. It’s been one secret encounter after another. Hell, we’ve never even had dinner outside of his house.
The other part is that I’ve never said it to anyone, so I don’t have a good gauge on when to say it. Guys have said it to me, and it was always awkward because I never felt it back. When they said it to me, the words, like a lot of the guys, came way too early to make me happy. So, I don’t have a concept of normal when it comes to these things.
Does normal even matter? I’m not sure. It’s not like I’ve ever had normal, so my past skews my judgement all to hell. But if I tell him too soon and he doesn’t say it back, I might actually die. Or at the very least, I’ll wish I was dead.
So, I keep my lips pressed together, trying to stop from declaring my feelings and stop myself from coming, because this is so intense that I’m ready to lose myself completely to Cormac. Each thrust hits my G-spot and steals my breath. As he studies my face, the look in his eyes tells me so much and yet, not enough. Does he feel the same way about me? I can’t tell.
I want to tell him. I’m on the verge of telling him. To be that vulnerable with him. The thought makes me clench around him, tightening against that hard shaft. I hiss, “Baby, please!”
“Please what?” he teases, knowing exactly what he’s doing to me.
“You said quiet.”
“Did I?”
I pant, “Dangerous game.”
He smiles. “Always.” Then he works himself against me there, and I’m lost to it.
Blood rushes to my face, and I’m fighting this orgasm so hard, while he’s doing everything he can to make that impossible. He has me trembling on his cock, and as much as I love that, my orgasm is not the only thing to consider. If I’m not careful, I might say the wrong thing right now, and that could ruin everything. “I can’t…stay quiet.”
A proud smirk hints on his lips. “I know.”
“You’re being bad,” I breathe.
“But you like it.” He drives in all the way and pauses.
“I know, but—
He retracts, then slams back in and holds still, while he locks his eyes on mine. “There is nothing I want more than to feel you come for me.” He starts up again, this time pounding into me.
I’m at the edge, and I know this is going to get loud or I might blurt out my feelings, so I grab a pillow and hold it over my face. But he yanks the pillow away and flings it somewhere, before he kisses me and keeps going. It’s like he stole my last defenses against telling him everything.
It’s a sign. I should tell him. I’m going to tell him. Can’t stop if I tried. As my orgasm rises, so do the words. Those three little words that scare the hell out of me. But they also feel like the right words. Now feels like the right time. My body takes over from there, tensing as pleasure and heat soars inside, ready to break me.
“What in the fuck?” a woman shouts behind Cormac.
He’s on his feet in a blink, and I yank the sheet up and over myself while I crane around him to see who the hell it is. He growls, “Abigail, what the fuck are you doing in here?”
Oh. That’s who it is. My nightmare.
She leans around him as he pulls on his gray sweatpants. “Lily?”
I try to smooth my hair down as though I have any dignity left and ignore the pulsing between my thighs. “Um. Hi.”
The three of us are quiet for a beat before he says, “So. You came back earlier than we anticipated.”
