And that’s when I feel him slap my pussy, hard.
The sting and shock makes my body jolt, and I release a sound I’ve never heard before from my lips. And right when the tailspin he’d just sent my mind and body on starts to settle, he slaps it again, making me yelp.
The wetness that drips from between my thighs should have me mortified in embarrassment. And yet, I’m too far gone to care.
Patton’s warm tongue drags up my neck before he nips at my earlobe. “You like that, sweetheart? You like having your pussy slapped? Me being rough with you?”
All I can do is nod because words seem to be escaping me at the moment.
And while this position—hell, almost every position between us—is familiar,thisfeels new. The rough edge in his voice and touch. The unabashed desire in his words. And the way my body craves more of it.
How is it possible that a man I thought couldn’t be outdone, at least in the bedroom, has outdone himself?
He’s changed. Not just in the way his body is more filled out and defined, but in the way he conducts himself, too. He now exudes a confidence that was always there beneath the surface but is out in plain sight now.
And perhaps it’s because he’s had years to find that on his own. Or perhaps someone else helped him find it.
As soon as that thought forms, and the unjustified rage threatens to course through my veins, I shove it away. Because whether this lasts a day, a month, or the year he claims he’ll be here, I am where I want to be right this second.
And then what? It’ll all be over?
Maybe, maybe not. But this time I’ll be ready. Because I know I can’t rely on a man who’s always put his career first. But I also know I don’t need him, that Icanmake it on my own.
I guess I’ve changed, too.
This? This physical connection drawn on by years of emotional longing? I haven’t changed my mind about what it is. It’s not a second chance or a new path to happily-ever-after.
It’s a “fuck around and find out”.
It’s two people with a complicated past and too much heat between them to keep their hands off each other.
We may have changed, but that doesn’t mean our broken history has. I’m no longer naïve enough to believe I can be a man’s first priority, and he hasn’t changed enough to make me believe otherwise.
Because despite his declaration that it was to chase me, I know he didn’t move here forme. Otherwise, why would he admit he doesn’t know how long he’ll stay—a few months or a year?
No, Patton Pierce moved here for his first and true love—his job. Plain and simple. And I’d be a fool to believe anything different.
Patton shifts, reaching for the box of condoms behind him, bringing my thoughts back to the present.
We never discussed using them explicitly because that conversation was too heavy for the kind of night we both wanted to have. But despite what I said to him last night—that the chances are slim to nonexistent—it didn’t need to be explicitly stated to know that the consequence would be too big.
I turn my head to watch him rip the wrapper with his teeth. I don’t know why that small act always seems to turn me on. Perhaps it’s the way the veins in his forearm tighten, or the flash of his perfect white teeth that nipped and bit me in the best of ways last night, but I’m practically shaking for him to get inside me.
God, the man is so beautiful. With his dark hair mussed from my fingers spearing it all night, his eyes the color of rain-soaked earth, and that perfectly-trimmed stubble, my ex-husband is temptation incarnate. If sin and seduction had a face, it would look like Patton Pierce—complete with that devastating smirk that says he knows I’m powerless when it comes to him.
He slides the head of his sheathed cock to the top of my slit, gathering my wetness and eliciting a gasp that feels like it comes from my soul.
“I’m not going to go easy, baby. It’ll be hard and fast until the only thing you remember is who owns you, body and soul.” His hot breath ghosts over the shell of my ear. “Me.”
And then he’s sliding inside me.
My breath hitches as my body tenses momentarily before relaxing enough to invite him in. He’s long and thick, and his one movement seats him so far inside me, my brain temporarily glitches.
His body still curved behind me, Patton drags his hand up my stomach and over my breasts before he wraps it around my throat. He squeezes gently, heightening all my senses, before grabbing my jaw and turning my face.
His lips devour mine in a kiss that seems to slow time, the heat between us melting the polar icecaps. Somewhere, a penguin just lost his home, but I can’t seem to care, not when he’s kissing me like he’s trying to convince me that gravity doesn’t exist and the only thing keeping me tethered to earth is him.
I slide my hand down to my aching center while his cock drags in and out of me and his balls slap against my folds. It feels so fucking good, yet still not enough.
