He’s literally shaking.
Nails curling into him, I whimper, “Joshua—”
My heart leaps when he covers my mouth with his huge palm, silencing me. His grip is firm and hot, and it sends goose bumps to my toes.
His forehead drops to mine. “Jesus,” he croaks through uneven breaths. “I’m sorry. But you can’t say my name like that right now. Not when I’ve got my cock buried deep inside you. I knew you’d feel good, but fuck ...”
My exhales come out hard. The words are honest and dirty and everything I didn’t know could sound so good coming from his mouth. When I clench around him, a guttural noise bubbles up his throat, and he pulls out only to slam right back in, his heavy palm swallowing my gasp. He does it again, then again, and my toes curl at the sensations knotting my core.
“I’m moving my hand,” he says, voice gravelly. He trails warm, gentle kisses from my temple to my cheek, then the spot below my ear. “But the next time you say my name like that, it’s gonna be because you’re coming so damn hard you can’t help it.”
I believe him. And as he sinks into me again, filling me in places I didn’t know could be reached, he proves why I do.
Releasing his grip, he immediately replaces it with soft lips. His hungry tongue. That desperate, reckless energy I’m still getting to know and eagerly drinking down.
Fucking, he called it. That’s what it is when his eyes go dark and he grips my hair and drives into me. Harder, then faster, then harder again. His breath heating, pumping and pumping until my thighs burn, clench, and quiver around him. It’s sudden, the way my insides tighten and flutter, tension building to the point it aches not to let go. But despite the noises spilling from my lips, I force the feeling down.
This is what I wanted—Joshua Hunt at his rawest. Holding nothing back.
But I don’t want to come.
Not yet, not like this. I want all of him, and with Joshua, that means his soft angles too. I’ve felt his heart beneath my palm, and I know he’s made of too much warmth to keep that part of him from me for long. I want to feel it when I let myself go.
When he bites down on my lip and tangles his tongue with mine, I angle my head and deepen the kiss even more. But this time, I’m slow, deliberate, pouring the light melody of my soul into him. He lets out a sharp breath, trying to harden the kiss again, matching it to his thrusts. But I only go slower. Softer. Finding his fingers in my hair and threading them through mine. I know it’s risky, pushing tenderness over serrated edges, but I don’t know how to do it any other way.
The moment freezes, his lips faltering, almost going still.I wasn’t supposed to kiss him like this.Tension rolls through him, and for a second, I don’t think he’s going to kiss me back again.
But then his fingers squeeze mine. A quiet, throaty sound works up his chest. And his tongue skates against my own, once, twice, until we’re dancing to a rhythm I’ve never felt.
He continues to fuck me, just like he promised he would—hard and relentless and taking everything he can. But his mouth. His mouth makes love to me.
My chest is on fire, hot enough to explode. Not a minute later, my body does.
Heat courses through me, twisting and knotting from the inside out, before bursting into a million pieces. This time when I moan his name, Joshua groans, swallowing the sound with his mouth and shuddering against me. He braces against the bed frame, sinking into me one final time, so deep my muscles spasm as the rest of my orgasm surges up my core. His masculine grunts, heavy with sex and need, make my heart race as he tenses above me. He holds me tight. I feel him shake. I think he curses, but his voice is muffled against my neck, hot, quick breaths scattering over my skin.
My eyes flutter shut as something thick climbs up the walls of my heart. Walls I never knew existed until Joshua shattered them and cut the tethers from the solid, familiar ground below us.
I’ve never been one to think too hard about what happens next. I prefer to ride the wave and let my heart be surprised. But I’ve also never been lifted this high, and for the first time in my life, I think I’m scared of heights.
A fall this hard has to hurt.
I hope he doesn’t drop me.
Hunt
Never in a million years did I think I’d be the kind of guy who would watch his girl while she sleeps. Yet here I am.
It’s still dark out, the moonlight shining through the window like it’s watching her as closely as I am. I run my fingers over her hair again, lightly wrapping them around the dyed strands, and listen to her breathing. It’s slow and smooth, the kind of deep sleep I haven’t gotten since I was a kid. Maybe not even then.
I don’t think of my childhood often, but, for some reason, being with Blue makes it easier to remember the good times. Like Mom letting me sit in on private lessons or even cancelling them whenever I needed her to. I think of Christmases and birthdays before I stopped celebrating them. Mom would go all-out on parties like Mr. and Mrs. Everest did for Blue yesterday, and I can’t help but smile a little at the thought. Then there was Dad, who threw money around like we were rich. He’s always been skilled at keeping up appearances though. At least, he was before Mom found out about the gambling and the women. Before we lost our home. Our life.
A snarl works up my throat at the thought of Conway, and I shake the memories off. I don’t want him ruining tonight, not while I’m with Blue.
As if she hears my thoughts, she lets out a sigh and snuggles back into my chest. Shit, she feels so right pressed up against me like this. Her soft curves molded against my hard angles. We’re skin-to-skin, but it’s still not enough. My breath picks up while I trail a knuckle down the side of her waist, the slope of her hip, then the flat of her stomach, lingering to trace circles below her belly button. When my gaze drops lower, my cock instantly grows against my thigh.
Heat spreads like fire under my skin, mixing with guilt when I think about the way I fucked her. The fact that she let me. Even now, my cock twitches as I replay it in my head, and I shut my eyes and swallow. I should’ve made love to her. It’s what she deserved. But I don’t know the first thing about making love. Hell, I don’t even think I know what the term means.
I stare at her, and my lungs burn the way they always do when I need to get closer. I reach up and brush her hair out of her face. Watch the way her lips part, soft breaths going in and out. I don’t know when I leaned in, but my mouth skims hers, my pulse spiking, and, fuck, I need more. More of everything she is; everything she makes me feel.
