Holy shit.
My quivering legs fall off his shoulders when he suddenly lurches up and sheds his clothes in fast succession. Fallon has such a beautiful body. He’s a masterpiece of colorful ink and defined muscle.
“Keep looking at me like that?—”
“I love looking at you,” I reply, excitement building when he runs his hands down my legs and grabs my ankles, pulling me down to the end of the bed.
He flips me over onto my stomach, then lifts me to my knees. My spine conforms to the hard planes of his chest when I feel his erection nestled in the crack of my ass, prompting a flurry of illicit thoughts that have my nipples hardening and arousal pooling between my legs.
Fallon twists my face to the side and covers my mouth with his, his tongue like velvet when he kisses me.
My breathy “Fallon” morphs into a needy moan when he slithers a hand up my front and cups my breast. I mold my hand over his, urging him to be rougher. To take me. Ruin me.
His chuckle fans over my neck. “Greedy.”
“It’s your fault.” I can’t help wanting more of the wonderful things he does to me. How he plays my body and sends me soaring.
My thighs begin to burn as I hold myself still when he pushes past my resistance. He rocks his hips back and forth until he’s seated fully inside me, and we both vocalize at how good it feels, the connection not only one of intimacy but of love.
I grip the back of his neck, silently giving him the signal to move.
“Your body is my paradise,” he says, easing out, then thrusting forward.
Our lips meet in a ravenous kiss as decadent as the way he’s making love to me. Within minutes, I feel the familiar tingle down my spine as everything spirals tighter and tighter in my center.
“You feel so fucking good, Kitten.” When he feels my internal walls start to quiver, he picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming more punishing. Harder. Deeper.
“Fallon, I’m—” is all I get out before I climax so hard, my muscles lock tight, my orgasm ripping me open with pleasure and destroying me in the most amazing way.
He follows me into euphoria, my name on his lips as he comes on a masculine moan, pulses of his warmth filling me.
I slump back into him and turn my head to kiss the underside of his jaw. Our bodies are slicked with sweat, our hearts beating the same song.
Turning me in his arms, he lays me back on the bed, and I pull him to me, enjoying the feel of his weight pressing me into the mattress.
Fallon nuzzles my neck, oh, so sweetly, before brushing his lips over mine.
“I love you, Elizabeth,” he tells me, and I absorb it into my soul. “Now, let’s see if I can break my record.”
My giggles turn to moans when he proves that he can. Over and over.
Chapter Forty-Eight
ELIZABETH
Beautiful Morning
Fallon’s eyelidsslowly blink open, and he sleepily watches me from the pillow as I draw musical notes on his hip with a permanent marker.
“Morning, beautiful,” he says in a husky cadence. “What time is it?”
We didn’t get much sleep last night. After telling Charlotte, Christopher, and Marcus our news, the night ran away from us when Charlotte went into wedding planning mode, and once Fallon and I got to bed, sleep was the furthest thing from our minds. I’m existing on three cups of strong coffee at the moment. I’ll probably crash as soon as the plane takes off.
“Six,” I reply, adding a barred eighth note, then blowing lightly on the ink to set it. Goose bumps erupt over his skin.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“Because I wanted to watch you sleep,” I answer truthfully.
