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Lyric opened her mouth to moan, and his tongue grazed hers, charging her with a renewed burst of desire. “Yes. That too,” she said between gasps and kisses, edging up to her knees on the mattress. “And this.” She pulled her shirt up and over her head, then tossed it to the floor.
Thatch took his time looking at her, his gaze slowly moving down her body. “I want all of this,” he murmured, drawing a line with his finger from the spot between her breasts down to her belly button. “I want all of you. But the most important thing to me is that you always feel safe with me, Lyric.”
“I do.” She straddled his lap, her thighs hugging his waist. “You make me feel safe and valued.” She kissed her way over to his ear to add, “And hot. You also make me very, very hot, Thatch Hearst.” She licked his earlobe and felt a shiver run through him.
“Just wait.” Thatch directed her mouth back to his. “I’ll make you feel so much more.” His mouth covered hers, taking their kiss deeper while he laid her down on the bed and started to push her pajama pants down her hips. Yes, they needed to get rid of those pesky pajamas. And his sweats too.
Lyric clawed at the waistband of his pants, pushing and tugging while refusing to stop kissing him because the man made her feel so much with only a kiss and she liked it all—the energy and the passion and the pure lust for more.
Thatch wriggled the rest of the way out of his pants and then was at her side, breaking their kiss and focusing on her underwear. “God, you look good in lace.”
“I look good without it too.” She pulled his body over hers and straddled him again, this time feeling his desire for her through their underwear. Lyric moved against him, breathless and aching, arching her back.
Kissing her again, Thatch reached one arm behind her back and unclipped her bra, peeling it away before tracing his lips down her neck and then over her breasts. His tongue moved over her skin, warm and wet, teasing and tantalizing.
“Oh, oh,” was all she managed between pants.
“What?” the man whispered against her skin. “What was that?”
“Oh, Thatch.” She ran her hands through his hair. “I’m just… God this is so good. You’re so good.” Why had she kept him out for so long? They could’ve been doing this months ago.
His fingers trailed over her hip, snagging the strap of her underwear and pulling it down. Lyric kicked off the undergarment and then impatiently pushed his boxers down so she could touch him.
Thatch paused then, letting out a long, slow exhale.
Seeing the control she had over him, Lyric stroked and caressed, but he shifted out of her reach and ran his hand up her inner thigh, pushing her legs apart. “Tell me what you like,” he murmured over her, his gaze shifting from where his fingers touched back up to her eyes.
Lyric opened her mouth to respond but moaned instead. He didnotneed her to tell him what to do. He knew where to touch her, how to make her back arch and her hips writhe and her breaths go ragged. “Please. Now,” she begged helplessly. She wanted him to be closer, inside of her, part of her when she let herself go.
Thatch sat back on the bed, hastily swiping his wallet off the bedside table and putting on a condom before he lifted her to him, pulling her thighs around his waist again. “I need to look at you.” His breathing had gotten heavier, too, though he wasn’t as breathless. “I want to look into your eyes, Lyric.”
“I want to see you too.” His steady gaze transfixed her.
Hands on her hips, Thatch guided her to move, to lift her hips and push to fit their bodies together. Lyric’s mouth opened when he moved fully inside of her, but she couldn’t speak. She could hardly even breathe. He made her body feel good, but there was some deeper connection binding her to him. Whenever she’d been intimate with anyone in the past, she’d always held back a part of herself, but now she was losing herself totally, completely to him.
Thatch smiled at her, a slow, dangerous smile, and reached up his hand to hold her jaw. “What’s on your mind, beautiful?”
“You,” she whispered. That was all. With him, the rest of the world faded away, and all that mattered to her right now was this moment. “I’m only thinking about you. And me. And us.” And this safe space he’d brought her to, where she could fully abandon everything that had held her back.
“That’s all I’m thinking about too.” He touched a kiss to her neck and then to her jaw and then his lips covered hers again, saying so much with their tenderness and intensity. Lyric kissed him back, holding on to him, and she couldn’t stay still anymore. She had to feel their bodies moving together, finding this new rhythm that had already changed her life. Draping her arms over hisshoulders, she lifted and thrusted her hips, creating a fiery momentum that spiraled low and deep inside of her.
Thatch met her movements, his hands pressing into her low back while he drove deeper into her, bringing those exhilarating sensations to a breaking point. His eyes found hers again, and she tried to tell him she was done, that she couldn’t hold on anymore, but the force that rocked through her stole her voice. All she could do was let go of herself and hold him tighter, murmuring his name between enraptured gasps.
Thatch thrust into her again, and then shattered beneath her, his body rocking with the same power hers had.
With a weakness spreading over her, Lyric let her forehead rest on his shoulder while he stroked her hair. She didn’t want to move. She could lie here for hours with him like this, still linked together in their own world.
But if they were late for breakfast, their friends would be on their doorstep, and she didn’t want that.
Thatch lay down with a loud contented sigh, gently bringing her with him. “I’m thinking we call in sick for today.” He snaked his arms around her. “We can hang out in bed all day.”
“I wish.” Lyric flipped over to face him. His hair was still all mussed, and his eyes drooped lazily. She loved this look on him. “But you know how Kyra is with her agenda.” Today, her friend had booked the men a tee time in Jackson, and Lyric, Kyra, and Tess were supposed to go shopping for little Baby Beck.
“I think you gave me a fever.” Thatch’s imploring eyes were adorable. “Don’t make me go golfing today. I’d rather be with you.”
“We’ll be together tonight.” They’d only finishedhaving sex like three minutes ago, and she already burned with the desire to do it again. But anticipation was a good thing too.
“Tonight is twelve hours away,” he complained, hugging her tighter.
