He held me through it until I recovered though my body was still humming.
"Are you ready for me? We can rest if you prefer."
"I want all of you."
He positioned himself between my legs and his length nudged my hole. I shivered, anticipating his cock being inside me and I spread my legs wider. Draping my arms around his neck, I tensed waiting for him to enter me.
He entered me slowly, inch by inch—and there were a lot of inches—giving me time to adjust. He was so huge and I counted the seconds as he filled me. I took deep breaths as he pushed in and his length stretched me.
We both groaned when he was fully sheathed inside me. Our bodies were joined in the most intimate way, something I’d never dared imagine would happen. For a moment, we stayed still, our foreheads pressed together while we breathed in sync.
He began to move, slowly at first but building to a rhythm that had us both gasping. Each thrust sent pleasure unfurling through me. I met him stroke for stroke as I bucked my hips. Lifting my legs until they locked around him, I angled my hips and urged him to go deeper.
"I love you being inside me." I panted as my voice broke into a moan. The L word had popped out too soon and I worried I’d ruined everything. But I didn’t say it about him but rather what he was doing to me so I ignored it and concentrated on having his length wedged inside me.
Hawthorn’s pace quickened and beads of sweat lined his brow. The room filled with the sound of our breaths, our moans, and the slick sound of our bodies coming together. The scents ofslick and sex mingled, creating a heady perfume that filled the room, and he reached between us, stroking me in time with his thrusts.
“If you want me to come, keep doing what you’re doing." My eyes were glazing over and I was almost at the point of no return.
"Oh no, we can’t have that." He laughed. "We’d better change things up." He rolled us so I was on top with my body straddling his. "You choose the pace and take what you need," he encouraged me as his hands settled on my hips.
I did, and I ground my ass against him, enjoying his grunts and moans. I rose up and sunk down onto him slowly, again inch by inch, savoring the new angle and the control it gave me.
His eyes darkened with desire, and maybe admiration for my initiative. "Gods, Zale, you're amazing like this." He flicked the tip of my cock and I paused as waves of pleasure crashed over me.
We moved together, with him hoisting me up and lowering me. It was a slower build up in this position and the sensations were drawn out. With one hand grabbing my hip, he teased my nipple with the other until I was gasping.
"That feels so good," I moaned as I slammed onto him.
"Zale... yes, just like that," he whimpered, sounding as though his control was fraying.
Bending forward, I kissed over his abdomen, reveling in his moans and how his fingers tangled in my hair without pulling, just holding. When I sat up, I heaved myself upward and fell on his dick. Not once or twice, but continuously until my energy was spent and my climax was about to slam into me.
"Come with me, Zale," he urged.
I let myself go and cried out his name as waves crashed over me once more, and he followed, burying his face in my neck while his body shuddered with the force of it.
Collapsing onto him, I lay on top of as our chests heaved. But I couldn’t help wondering if this was the beginning of something or was it a one-time thing?
EIGHT
ZALE
I woke to a pale morning light. That wasn’t right. I got up in the dark at 1.45 a.m. ready to get to the bakery on time. I sniffed because there was a hint of bread baking in the air and the distant hum of ovens below.
Lifting the unfamiliar covers, I studied my naked body. That was unusual because I never slept in the nude in winter with the only exception being when I had sex.
Shoot! Sex. I shot up in bed and the room spun around. Heat pulsed through my veins as I remembered his hands on my skin, his mouth on mine and how he whispered my name as though I was something he cared about.
My cold was better though I was still sniffly. The alarm clock on the nightstand read 7:47 a.m. Hawthorn would have been up for hours already.
He hadn’t woken me at 2 a.m. and now he was working and I was in his bed. Had he left without waking me on purpose?
My clothes were folded neatly on the chair. That wasn’t how I'd left them last night when we’d been frantically tearing them off one another. Had he folded them this morning while I slept?And had he been relieved I was still asleep so he didn’t have to face me?
The espresso scent that clung to the sheets made my wolf whine. He wanted to burrow back into Hawthorn's bed and wait for him to return. I told him that wasn't happening.
The apartment was quiet except for the sounds drifting up from below. The bakery was open, and Hawthorn was working. He'd left me here asleep and gone back to his routine as though nothing had changed. Maybe nothing had for him.
