Sorcha slid her hand between their bodies to wrap around his length. He was silky smooth and rock hard in her palm, a contradiction that fascinated her. As she stroked him, Christopher bit down on his bottom lip, his eyes squeezing shut.
“If you keep that up,” he warned, his voice strained, “this will be over too soon.”
Sorcha smiled, feeling powerful and feminine, and wanted. “We can’t have that,” she whispered, guiding him to her entrance. “I need you inside me.”
Christopher’s eyes locked with hers as he began to push inside, slowly, giving her body time to adjust to his size. Sorcha’s eyes fluttered closed at the exquisite sensation of being filled by him, stretched to the point of discomfort that quickly melted into pleasure.
When he was fully seated within her, they both paused, breathing heavily, adjusting to the overwhelming intimacy of their connection. Sorcha had never felt so complete, so utterly joined with another person—not just physically, but somehow deeper, as if their very souls were touching.
“Open your eyes,” Christopher murmured. “Look at me.”
She did, finding his gaze intense and vulnerable all at once. He began to move then, withdrawing almost completely before pushing back in with a thrust that made her gasp. The rhythm he set was slow and deliberate, each stroke hitting places inside her that made her see stars.
Sorcha wrapped her legs around his waist, changing the angle so that he slid even deeper. Her hands roamed his back, feeling the muscles flex and release with each movement. She traced thecurve of his spine, the breadth of his shoulders, memorizing him with her fingertips.
Christopher lowered his head to her breast, taking a nipple into his mouth. The dual sensation—his hardness moving inside her, his tongue and teeth teasing her sensitive peak—sent fresh heat spiraling through her body. She was climbing toward another orgasm already, amazed at how quickly he could bring her there.
“You feel so good,” she whispered, her nails digging into his shoulders as his pace increased. “So perfect.”
“Made for each other,” Christopher replied, the words seemingly torn from him without thought.
Something about the phrase resonated through Sorcha like a bell being struck. Made for each other. Yes. That was exactly how this felt. As if they had been designed to fit together, to please each other, to belong to one another.
His thrusts grew more urgent, and Sorcha met each one, their bodies finding a perfect rhythm together. The tension built inside her again, a coiling pressure that demanded release. Christopher seemed to sense how close she was, slipping a hand between them to circle her sensitive flesh with his thumb.
The combination of his mouth, his touch, and the relentless stroke of him inside her pushed Sorcha over the edge. She cried out his name as pleasure exploded through her, more intense than before, her body clenching around him in rhythmic pulses.
Her release triggered his own. Christopher thrust deep one final time, his body going rigid above her as he groaned her name. Sorcha felt him pulsing inside her, the sensation prolonging her own pleasure until they were both trembling with aftershocks.
As the intensity faded, Christopher’s weight settled more fully on her, his face buried in her neck. Sorcha wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, unwilling to let this moment end. Their bodies remained joined, hearts beating against each other as their breathing gradually slowed.
Eventually, Christopher lifted his head to look at her, a question in his eyes that she couldn’t quite decipher. Whatever he saw in her face seemed to reassure him, because he smiled—a smile so full of tenderness that it made her heart ache.
“Stay,” he whispered.
And in that moment, wrapped in his arms with their bodies still intimately connected, Sorcha knew with absolute certainty that she would.
Chapter Seventeen – Christopher
Stay. He’d asked her, and although she had not replied, he thought…he hoped…he’d read her answer in her eyes.
And that answer was yes.
As the moment stretched between them, doubt crept in like a cold draft under a door. Had she only nodded because she was caught in the moment? Would tomorrow bring regrets and a hasty departure?
He didn’t want to think about that. Not now.
He pulled her closer, breathing in the scent of her hair, memorizing the feel of her in his arms.
His bear rumbled contentedly within him.She’ll stay with us,his bear insisted.She belongs here.
Christopher wished he shared his bear’s certainty. The sex had been incredible. Oh, so incredible. But people made promises in the heat of passion; they didn’t always keep them in the cold light of day.
We can’t lose her now,he said, his arms tightening involuntarily around her.
Sorcha stirred against him, her skin warm and soft where it pressed against his. “You’re thinking very hard over there,” she murmured, her voice husky with satisfaction. “I can practically hear the gears turning.”
“Just processing,” he said, brushing his lips against her temple.
