Everything has changed. Everything will change. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to face that. No job, no money, no future. That’s what I have to look forward to, not to mention the fact that I love this man who will never love me. I don’t want any of it to end.
“That sounds like fun,” I say.
It’s not a lie. It does sound like fun, even if I don’t want to do it. But that’s for purely selfish reasons anyway. I should want to do it, and deep down, I do. I just don’t want this beautiful ride I’m on to end.
I inhale a deep breath and hold it for a moment before letting it out slowly as Goose spins me around. He dips his chin, and before I realize what’s happening, his mouth is touching mine, his tongue tangling with my own, and then my body is being lifted into the air.
Goose takes a few steps, but it’s not enough for us to be in my bedroom, only the living room. He sets me down on my feet, breaking the kiss before his gaze shifts down to meet mine.
His fingers curl around the front of my throat. For a moment, they tighten before they release their grasp, then his fingers fist the front of my top at my belly. My breath hitches as he glides it over my body, tossing it somewhere on the floor.
“Goose,” I exhale.
His smirk, his smile, appear. My favorite mischievous smile. Goose bumps break out over my entire body, over all of my flesh. If he senses it, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he lowers his head and touches his lips to the swell of my breast.
In the silence, he nips my breast with his teeth, his gaze looking up at me through his lashes. He doesn’t speak when his hands find the button of my jeans, popping it open before he glides the zipper down, and then my pants are pushed to my ankles.
I gasp as he lifts his head, his sexy smile pointed directly at me. “Are you gonna be my good girl?” he asks.
God. Yes.
A million times yes.
But I don’t say that, at least not all of that, because the only thing I can get out is a single word… the only word that matters.
“Yes.”
That singular word causes something between us to snap like a rubber band. He pulls me closer to him, my chest pressing against his as his hands slide up my spine until he reaches my bra strap. He unhooks it, then touches his mouth to mine again.
His fingertips glide over my skin, goose bumps appearing on top of goose bumps with each move he makes. I want him inside me. Need him. He knows it too, which is why he’s taking his sweet time.
When Goose lifts his head, his gaze focuses on mine again as he gently guides my bra down my arms. I step out of my jeans, my hands fumbling with his belt and pants. When his jeans are off, he tosses his cut on the coffee table.
He throws his shirt somewhere on the floor before he picks me up again and slams his mouth against mine. Before I realize what’s happening, he’s ripped his lips from mine, and he’s turning me around and bending me over the arm of the sofa.
My whole ass is on display. There is no hiding any part of me from his view, and there is something sexy about that.
Extremely sexy.
Reaching out in front of me, I try to grip the cushion of the sofa for leverage, but there’s nothing to hold on to.
Then my legs are spread, I feel his fingers dig into my hips, and they’re yanked backward at the same time he pushes inside me. My head flies back the moment he fills me.
He releases my hip, and his fingers grab hold of my hair, tangling in it, tugging my head until my back arches.
My entire body feels like I’m on the edge, as if something significant is about to happen and I’m losing control of myself. I don’t try to regain it, though. I don’t want to. Whatever is going to happen, however that feels, I’m ready for it. It’s almost as if I’m hovering above myself, looking down, as if my soul has left my body.
He rears back, almost slipping from inside me, before he slams back inside. The motion, or maybe the slight pain, brings me back down to earth. Or back into my body. He grunts, repeating the move before he speaks.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “So goddamn good.”
He moves inside me, in and out. He stretches me, fills me, and consumes me as only he can. I’m so madly, deeply, wildly in love with this man, I’m not sure I can keep it to myself much longer.
Then he shifts over me, his chest pressed against my back, his lips against the shell of my ear.
“My good girl,” he whispers.
Those three words.
