I watched as he shed his pants and briefs and stood nude before me. I realized he held a condom in his right hand as he put a knee on the bed next to me. He urged me into the middle of the bed, moving with me.
“Soft.” His fingers trailed over my collarbone and down my sternum. “Sexy.” Then he cupped my breast, lowering his head to lave my nipple with his tongue. “And for my eyes only,” he murmured against my skin.
His words, coupled with his touch, lit the fire of need within me again. My sluggish thoughts finally turned to the fact that he was within arm’s reach and that I could touch him as much I wanted.
I curved my hands over his shoulders, feeling the lean muscle and sinew that seemed tougher and bulkier than it had before. My palms traveled downward, over his back, relearning the shape and texture while discovering the new. When I reached his waist, I spread my hands, dragging my fingertips around to the slanting muscle that led from his hips to his cock.
As I curved my hand around the rigid length, I whispered in his ear, “I want you inside me.”
At the touch of my fingers, Jordan nipped the inside of my breast with his teeth. The bite was a heady mix of pleasure and pain, teetering on the edge of being too much but never enough.
I heard him rip open the condom packet and he shifted, his hands brushing mine aside so he could put it on. I shifted so his hips were between my thighs, eager to feel him inside me.
As he moved over me, his cock pressing into my body, our eyes locked. I couldn’t look away as he slid deep until our hips seemed fused together.
We stared at one another for a long moment, neither of us moving, until I whimpered, “Please.”
I needed him to move, to feel his body filling me over and over. But I also needed more. I wanted more.
I wanted his heart.
Jordan lowered his head, his mouth crashing into mine, and he gave me a taste of what I wanted. He withdrew and thrust, deep and hard, until I felt the release gathering within me. Until I gasped with each slam of his hips against mine. I reached for the orgasm, desperate and aching.
The tension building inside me burst free when he lowered his head and sucked my nipple deep into his mouth. I cried out as I came again, clutching him to me. As the orgasm gradually faded, Jordan thrust into me one last time, a low groan escaping from his mouth against my breast, the sound vibrating through my body with the echoes of my climax.
Jordan lifted his head, his mouth touching mine with indescribable tenderness.
When he released my lips, I spoke without thinking. “I missed you.”
It hit me what I’d said and what I’d possibly revealed with my words when he opened his eyes and looked down at me, his expression unguarded and surprised.
Though my first instinct was to say something else, change the subject, anything to hide the vulnerability I’d just exposed, I forced myself to lie still and keep silent.
If I wanted more from Jordan, I would also have to give him more of myself.
The surprise washed out of his eyes, replaced by warmth, and my thoughtless admission was rewarded.
“I’ve missed you too, Tanya,” he replied, his lips curving into a smile I’d never seen from Jordan before. It was tender and affectionate, but there was something else.
For the first time since I met Jordan Hawke, I was seeing exactly what he was thinking and feeling. Nothing hidden. Nothing protected.
And it was more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.
