I don't stop. I work her with my mouth and my hand, tongue on her clit, fingers stroking the spot that makes her shake, and I feel her climb. The tension builds in her thighs, in the tremor of her stomach, in the way her hands go from pulling my hair to pressing my face harder against her.
She comes with a shattered cry, back arched, hips lifted off the bed, clenching around my fingers in rhythmic waves. I hold her through it. Keep my mouth on her, gentler now, drawing it out, until the aftershocks fade and she collapses back to the mattress, breathing hard.
I kiss her inner thigh. Her hip. Her stomach. Work my way back up her body while she's still trembling. She grabs my face and pulls me into a kiss, tasting herself on my mouth, and the combination of her tongue and the knowledge that she doesn't care, that she wants the taste of her own pleasure from my lips, makes my cock throb.
She reaches for my belt again. This time I let her. Her surgeon's hands are quick and precise, and she has my pants open and shoved down my hips in seconds. My cock springs free, thick and aching, and her hand wraps around the shaft with a grip that makes my vision blur.
"Condom," I manage.
"Nightstand. I'm on birth control, but..."
"Nightstand." I reach over, yank open the drawer, and find the strip of condoms that someone, probably Cade, always stocks in the guest cabins. I tear one open with my teeth and roll it on while she watches with those pale blue eyes that are molten now, all that ice finally, completely melted.
I settle over her. Line myself up. The head of my cock presses against her entrance and we both hold still for a fraction of a second. Her legs wrap around my waist. Her hands grip my shoulders.
I push inside her.
The sound that comes out of me is barely human. She's tight and hot and so wet I slide all the way in on the first thrust, buried to the hilt, and the sensation of being inside her is so overwhelming I have to press my forehead against hers and breathe through it.
"Fuck," she whispers. Her nails dig into my shoulders. "You feel..."
I pull back and drive in again. Deep. Slow. Watching her face. Her mouth falls open. Her eyes flutter closed.
"Look at me," I say.
She opens her eyes. Blue into hazel. I hold her gaze and thrust again, and the intimacy of watching her face while I'm buried inside her is more intense than the physical sensation. Every emotion she's been hiding for eight days is right there. Want. Vulnerability. The raw, terrified joy of letting someone in after years of locked doors.
I set a rhythm. Deep, measured strokes that fill her completely and drag against the spot I found with my fingers. She moves with me, her hips rising to meet each thrust, and the wet sound of our bodies together fills the quiet cabin.
"Harder," she breathes.
I give her harder. Plant my forearm beside her head, grip the pillow, and drive into her with the kind of force that moves the bed. She cries out and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me down into a kiss that's messy and breathless and perfect.
I shift my angle, lift her hip with one hand, and the new position hits deeper. She breaks the kiss to moan against my throat, and I feel her walls start to tighten around my cock.
"Again," I growl against her ear. "Come on my cock, Lex. Let me feel it."
She shatters. The orgasm rips through her harder than the first, her whole body clenching, her pussy squeezing me so tight I nearly follow her over the edge. I thrust through it, extending her pleasure, my teeth gritted, holding on by sheer willpower because I don't want this to end. I don't want to stop being inside this woman, feeling her pulse around me, hearing her say my name in that broken, reverent voice.
Her aftershocks are still rolling when I flip us. Pull her on top, her thighs bracketing my hips, and the change in position drives me even deeper inside her. She gasps, palms flat on my chest, and looks down at me with wild eyes and messed hair and swollen lips.
"Your turn," she says. And she rolls her hips.
I grip her waist and watch her ride me. The sight of her above me, breasts swaying with each movement, head tipped back, taking her pleasure from my body with the same command she brings to everything, undoes me completely. She grinds down, circling her hips, finding the friction she needs against my pelvis while my cock hits the deepest part of her.
My hands slide from her waist to her breasts. I palm them, thumb her nipples, feel her clench around me every time I roll the stiff peaks between my fingers. She moans and rides me faster, and the pressure at the base of my spine builds into something I can't hold back.
"Lex." My voice is raw. "I'm close."
She braces her hands on my chest and drives down hard, taking me to the root, and the tight wet grip of her pussy combined with the look on her face, fierce and tender and completely open, sends me over.
I come so hard my vision whites out. My hands dig into her hips, holding her down against me while I pulse inside her, and the groan that tears out of me is guttural, animal, nothing I could control if I tried. She leans down and kisses me through it. Soft. Sweet. Her hands cradling my face while my body empties itself into hers.
We stay like that. Connected. Her weight on my chest. My hands moving slowly up and down her back. Her heartbeat hammers against mine, and gradually, breath by breath, they sync.
She lifts her head. Looks down at me. Her hair is a platinum curtain around our faces, and in the early morning light, her eyes are the softest blue I've ever seen.
I brush the hair back from her face. Trace the line of her jaw. The cheekbone. The tiny crease between her brows that appears when she's thinking.
