Each kiss he places on my feverish skin sears like a brand, and I pull him closer, my fingers pressing into the powerful muscles of his ass as he rocks inside me.
His large, chiseled body is everywhere, his masculine scent flooding my senses as he claims my pleasure for his own.
“Come with me,” he breathes against my skin, and goosebumps erupt across my flesh.
“I’m ready,” I murmur, the intimacy of knowing we’re hovering on the brink of the same precipice making it that much more thrilling.
Gio grunts, the sound near animalistic, and I gasp as a wave of euphoria crests inside me, my core clenching with anticipation.
Then, with a powerful thrust, he launches me into oblivion as he buries himself to the hilt.
Hot seed floods my body, intensifying my relief as I throb and pulse around him, my clit twitching against the base of his thick erection.
We pant together as Gio’s forehead rests lightly against mine, and I tilt my chin to brush his lips with a chaste kiss.
“I honestly did not expectthiswhen I came into your shop to get those flowers,” he says, his voice breathless and playful as he pulls back to meet my eyes.
I hum, a contented smile curving my lips. “I should hope not, or you’d be in trouble for not bringing a condom.”
He chuckles, and the low sound makes my stomach flutter, my walls clinching around his cock, and though we just finished having sex, I feel it twitch inside me in response.
Gio steals one last kiss, then slowly eases out of me, a trail of slick arousal oozing down the side of my thigh as he disengages.
Rolling lithely out of bed, he stalks toward the bathroom, and I try to ignore the sinking disappointment as I wonder if he’s going to leave now that we’re done.
I should be glad. I don’t want Jackson to find a man in my bedroom before I’ve had the chance to talk to him.
But still, I want Gio to stay.
I catch the sound of running water as I pull the sheets up to cover me, then a moment later, Gio appears, washcloth in hand.
I watch with captive breath as he throws back the covers without asking and gently spreads my thighs.
The warm, wet cloth feels glorious on my sticky skin, and my heart squeezes to watch such a muscular,masculineman take the time to wash me.
“Thank you,” I murmur when I can find my voice.
Gio chuckles, balling the washcloth in his hand and tossing it into the hamper across the room like he was a born basketball player. “I’m pretty sure if anyone should be thanking somebody, it’s me.” He presses a kiss to my lips before leaning back against the headboard. “That was the best sex I’ve had in alongtime.”
Warmth pools in my cheeks at the compliment, even as an inexplicable wave of jealousy washes through me.
There’s no way a man like Gio wouldn’t have a past, and we only just met, so of course, he must have had good sex before.
But while I like that ours felt as good to him as it did to me, I selfishly wish that ours was the best sex he’s had, period.
Pushing the green feelings aside, I settle in against him, resting my cheek against his shoulder as I go back to studying the tattoos that decorate his chest and arms.
A skull laced with roses covers the expanse of his left pec, and for some reason, it reminds me of the deep sadness I sometimes catch in his eyes.
I wonder if he got the tattoo when he lost Stephanie—and if she’s the one he mourns.
But I don’t want to revisit painful memories.
Not after the amazing night we’ve had.
Instead, I place my palm over the tattoo, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart against my palm.
Gio covers my hand with his, his fingers lacing with mine, and this moment feels so perfect, I could cry.
