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I grab her with an arm circling around her waist and lift her until she’s further up on the bed. I need my body to touch every inch of hers. Standing at the edge of the bed and pounding into her isn’t going to cut it tonight.
Blanketing her isn’t exactly creating that distance between her as a person and this act, but I can’t resist that pull I always feel in my chest to get as close to her as possible. Maybe tomorrow will be easier.
I hiss with need as I press the tip of my cock against her slick entrance, knowing I’m fighting a losing battle when she wraps both her legs around me, ankles crossed at my back as she pulls me forward into her body.
Her mouth hangs open, that familiar surprise in her eyes that does a million different things to me.
My cock kicks with the first intrusion, and I know I’m going to end things quicker than either of us would like if I don’t get better control.
I press my face into her neck, avoiding looking at her. That’s the surefire way to make me come too soon.
She claws at me the same way she always does, her fingers not getting much grip on my sweat-slicked skin. I can tell by the way she moans and fights that she’s losing her own battle against coming.
I pull back, pulling one leg from my waist and bending her knee in the crook of my arm. I know the perfect angle to use, the one that makes her see stars, and I need that for her. She’ll be more forgiving of my rush to orgasm if she comes hard first.
“Chase,” she groans, but I keep my eyes locked where we’re joined, the slick slide of myself into her its own sort of torture.
She loses her battle, her back arching off the mattress, the sexiest moan erupting from her lips.
I pull back, rip the condom from my cock, and it takes half a stroke down my length before I’m marking her skin. Jesus, the sight of ropes of cum striping across her body makes me come harder.
I’m breathless, my head spinning, dizziness threatening to take over. I fall to the side, making sure to give her plenty of room because I’d feel like an asshole if I pass out and crush her.
A week’s worth of exhaustion and the best orgasm I can recall ever having pull me under until there’s nothing but blackness and bliss.
Chapter 28
Madison
Just sex is one thing.
That I might’ve been able to handle, but degradation isn’t my thing.
He was quick to release me after gripping my hair too tight last night, but then the humiliation of spraying himself all over me came. I wanted to cry. I wanted to yell at him, but he didn’t stay awake long enough for either to have mattered.
I’ve been awake most of the night, too weak to leave his bed, but too angry to fully accept what happened. He buried his face into my neck, something Sam always did because he was too disgusted by me when I was able to convince him to have sex with me.
Why would he leave that smiling woman in the bar only to regret having sex with me?
I never took him for the type of person to waste such energy making others feel bad. Yeah, some of his recycled smiles are concerning, but why pick me?
I didn’t recognize the woman in the bar. He could’ve easily taken her home instead of choosing someone already in his life. Maybe that’s the thrill. To see how much I’ll put up with before I break.
My breath hitches at the realization. It’s a game, a ploy, something he’s doing because his life is boring. He went from being a rockstar hockey player, having everyone cater to his every whim, to being right back in the small town he never looked back on once he escaped. It’s not much different from my own plans in life. I know I wouldn’t have come back here if my life hadn’t imploded, but I’ve never been the type of person to seek out others to hurt.
“Where are you going?” he asks, tightening his arm around my back when I move to climb out of bed.
I can’t respond, despite having a million things to say. The one-sided conversation I had while he slept falls away. I’d planned so many intelligent and Oscar-worthy responses for when he finally woke up, but they all escape me now.
“What’s wrong?”
I pull away from him, avoiding his eyes altogether. I know there are parts of me that still want to stay in his arms, to pretend nothing that happened last night had the power to hurt me, but that’s the old Madison, the one who turned so many blind eyes over the last several years that she didn’t even know her fiancé was planning his wedding to someone else.
“This has to stop,” I tell him as I stand at the side of his bed.
I should probably just bolt from the room. There’s no chance of getting caught by the boys or Henry since Chase always picks the kids up from his father’s house when they stay over there.
“We’re crossing too many lines,” I continue, bending to pick up the now offensive satin panties he claimed to have liked so much last night.
