He groans. Shudders.
I smile, savoring this discovery. Banks loves when I play with his hair. I twine my fingers in those thick strands, running them through his hair as he thrusts deep into me, filling me till there’s no room left, then pulling back so the head of his cock teases me.
But I’m racing faster to the edge as he takes me apart, until I’m panting, writhing, then well and truly begging.
His control seems to fray as he drives into me, one hand on my hip, the other sliding between my legs. His thumb teases my clit, and I’m nothing but raw nerves and dirty desires as my bodyguard takes me to the edge of pleasure.
My legs shake. My body tightens. With one powerful thrust, he sends me over.
I’m spinning into bliss, my thoughts breaking apart, my worldturning beautifully black as I cry out. He covers me as he drives into me, like he’s making sure I feel all of him as I fall apart.
With a deep grunt, he tenses, then groans, coming too, helpless to the pleasure, helpless to me, when he murmurs, “Yes, fuck yes.”
A few seconds later, he’s saying my name, faint but full of need. “Ripley.”
For a minute or ten, who even knows, we gasp and pant together—his body on mine, me under him, my legs wrapped around his waist, my arms wrapped loosely around his neck.
At last, he pushes up on his palms and looks down at me with passion in his eyes. “Thank you.”
He eases out, ties off the condom, then pads to the bathroom. He’s back seconds later, lying next to me. He takes my palm and kisses my wrist. “You’re good with your hands too.”
I laugh.
He meets my gaze, shooting me a deadpan look. “Laugh at me when I’m being sweet. Thanks, Ripley.”
“Like you’d expect anything less,” I tease.
“Yup. That’s how I know you’re not an imposter. But also forthat, I think you need this…”
He brings my wrist to his mouth, giving me the swooniest wrist kiss in the world. It’s so tender, it makes me gasp softly. That seems to spur him on since he travels up my arm, across my birds, to my neck. I’m murmuring the whole time. Until the fucker chases kisses with a loud, boisterous suck on my neck.
“What the…?”
He pulls back, grinning slyly. “You deserve a hickey.”
I swat his chest. “That’s so high school.”
He narrows his eyes. “Did I fuck you like we’re in high school?”
I huff, then grumble, “No.” I’m not really mad at him though. Because, once I grab my phone to inspect the mark on my neck using the selfie mode of the camera, I find I like it. I sigh, then say, “Fine. I like the love bite.”
He presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “Thought you might.”
We’re quiet for a few moments, the levity fading, till we’re left with reality. The two of us working together. “We were just getting that out of our systems, right?”
“Of course.”
“Tomorrow, we go back to…?”
“Yes. We do.”
But tonight, he curls around me in bed after he kisses my wrist one more time.
29
FORGETTING ALL ABOUT IT
RIPLEY
