Asshole. I reached between us, guiding him to my entrance. “Just fuck me.”
God, did he. My eyes rolled back as he pushed inside in one smooth thrust. Pinning my hands above my head, he pounded into me like he wanted to break something. My body, my rules, myvagina.Those metal studs scraped along my inner walls withevery slam of his hips. I blissed out, lost in a haze of desire, fingers scoring channels in the broadness of his back, tangling in his hair, gripping his hips to urge him to go harder, faster, deeper.
Our coming together was messy and hot and perfect. He cursed under his breath with sweat dripping from his forehead onto my breasts as he moved. I met every thrust with one of my own, hips lifting, chasing the high like I’d chased him to sign with my label—relentlessly and without apology.
Pulling out of me, he flipped me onto my stomach, grabbed both hips and hauled me to a kneeling position. Before I had a chance to take a breath, he filled me again. I cried out, pleasure sharp and dazzlingly bright like I’d stared right into the sun.
“You want it rough?” he ground out.
“Hell yeah.” I gasped as he shifted position. “Just like that. Don’t you dare go easy on me.”
He didn’t. He annihilated me. And when I came again, I screamed. Seconds later, he followed with a hoarse groan, burying himself deep, then stilling. For a long moment, the only sounds were our ragged breathing as we fought to slow our thundering heartbeats. Then he eased out and flopped back onto the couch. I righted myself and removed the condom from his softening dick. Tying a knot in it, I dropped it into the wastepaper basket beside my couch.
“Well, that escalated.”
He chuckled. “You good?”
I turned my head to look at him. “Better than good.”
Effortlessly, he lifted me astride him. I scraped my fingertips down his chest, my thighs still shaking. He cupped my face and kissed me gently, reverently, like he meant it. Like this wasn’t just some one-time thing that quenched a craving, but the start of something deep and meaningful.
I dragged his bottom lip between my teeth. “Next time, I’m tying you to the bed.”
His groan was pure lust. “Spitfire…”
Climbing off him, I cupped my breasts and opened my legs. “What, you thought that was the whole show?”
He launched off the couch like it was an ejector seat. I made a run for it, but he caught me right as I reached the bedroom door. I squealed as he tossed me over his shoulder and slapped my ass.
“Oh, I know that wasn’t the whole show, Spitfire. That was only the warm-up.” He tossed me onto the bed and crawled after me. “You’re in for a long,hard,night.”
Chapter 20
Joz
Honesty. The one thing I can’t deal with.
Aspen’s chestrose and fell in a steady rhythm. The woman I’d spent hours of the night kissing and fucking and tasting was completely unaware of the emotional avalanche barreling through me while she had one arm flung across my abdomen, lips slightly parted, tangled strands of her hair draped across my chest like she’d claimed me in the night and forgotten to let go.
God, she was beautiful.
And I was so fucked.
Her skin warmed mine, but inside, a slow-moving river of ice crawled through my veins. The kind I hadn’t felt in years.
Last night had been everything, but instead of filling me with joy, it filled me with dread. As though I’d been dragged back in time to the night a part of me died. A part of me I’d buried six feet under with Caroline.
The part capable of giving myself to another human being.
Aspen wasn’t Caroline. Aspen was fire and ambition and open-hearted wonder. She was smart and funny and bossy inthe best ways possible, and she made me feel things I’d worked hard to avoid. There wasn’t a manipulative bone in her body, unlike Caroline. And that was the problem. I could deal with manipulation, with lies and fingers that held on too tightly.
What I couldn’t deal with was honesty.
I hadn’t been honest with myself in so long, and I couldn’t afford to start now. I wasn’t ready to face the peeling away of layers I’d glued down in an effort to protect myself. Yet in the cold light of morning, when the fog of lust had cleared, and all that was left was the brutal clarity of what I was feeling, I couldn’t breathe.
I was falling.
No, worse. I had fallen. Somewhere between that kiss in the elevator and herowningme, it had happened. A shift. A slip. An inevitable cracking of walls I’d spent years building.
