He raised his chest enough to watch her face as he pleasured her. But too soon her gasps and fluttered eyelids became more than he could take. He had to be inside her.
He fisted his cock to position himself at her entry. He teased them both for a moment with the tip. Circling, caressing, sliding in the plump head just a little.
The sensations were incredible. Body-shuddering incredible.
He didn’t know who he was torturing more. He was so turned on that the urge to thrust was almost overwhelming.
But even more overwhelming was the urge to draw it out. He wanted to see each euphoric expression on her face. Each gasp of surprise. Each groan of pleasure as their bodies came together.
He pushed inside slowly. Inch by inch. Holding her gaze the entire time, while biting back his own pleasure of her body gripping him tightly. Oh, so fucking tightly.
He was really sweating now. His body was a furnace of need. The pressure and pounding at the base of his spine intense.
Only when he was fully seated inside her, when he’d pushed as deep as he could go with that final nudge of possession, did he start to move. Sliding in and out with long, slow strokes. Watching as her eyes fluttered, her head fell back, and each sensation played out on her face.
He didn’t know how he did it. Usually when he was this turned on—although it had been a long time since he’d been this turned on—he wanted to close his eyes and pound hard and fast.
He did want to do that. But he wanted to see her reactions and building pleasure even more.
And she was digging it. Really digging it. Her hips were lifting to meet his every stroke, her fingertips were pressing into his arms, and her back was arching as if begging him to give her what she wanted. The way she moved with him was so smooth and silky, so sexy, it was almost like a dance. The hottest, most sensual dance he’d ever experienced.
But it was her eyes that drew him in and wouldn’t let go. Holding him captive with the proof of just how much she liked what he was doing to her. The long, slow strokes. The circling thrusts. The deep hitch of possession.
She really liked that. He held still, just letting himself fill and beat inside her, as her body found its peak. As she grinded herself against him to a powerful climax.
He kissed her as she came, telling her how sexy she was—how hot she made him—letting the cries and moans of her release flow inside him, as his tongue circled to match the rhythm of her spasms.
He didn’t let her come back down. He took her over the peak again, but this time he let himself go along for the ride.
Slowly and purposefully, he increased the pace. He wanted to feel every touch, every caress, every stroke. It built so powerfully and to such heights that when he finally came, it came over him like a freight train. It was as if his whole body had come apart.
He’d never felt anything like it. He was completely shattered. Drained of every last ounce of strength. His bones seemed to have dissolved from his body.
But he’d never felt such a sense of satisfaction. Not even when he’d finished the infamous Hell Week of BUD/S training. He might as well have climbed Mount Everest.
Make that Mount Olympus. Because he’d just seen a god—lots of them.
Somehow he managed not to collapse completely on top of her, but rolled to the side a little so she was only half under him.
Her eyes fluttered open to meet his. They stared at each other for a long moment without saying anything. He wasn’t sure what to say.Wow? Shit?Both somehow seemed appropriate.
Because even as he was aware that he’d just had the most incredible sexual experience of his life, he was alsoaware that it was different. And he wasn’t sure what that meant. If it meant anything.
But there was something in his chest. A wave of tenderness that almost humbled him.
He reached out, ostensibly to sweep a lock of hair from her forehead, but he really just needed to touch her. To let his thumb caress the soft skin of her brow. And look into her eyes to make sure she was okay. She’d been more upset than he’d expected earlier. Her feelings for him weren’t as over as she’d made him believe. He was happier about that than he should be, knowing that it would definitely complicate things. This.
“Hey,” he finally said, his voice oddly thick.
His blood had stopped pounding every place but in his chest. That was still beating hard and heavy.
“Hey,” she repeated with a tentative smile. She searched his face for something. “Second thoughts?”
He shook his head. “No.”
He wished he could say he regretted it, but he didn’t. He hadn’t intended to end up in bed with her again, any more than he’d intended to spill his guts earlier—they both just sort of happened.
No, regret wasn’t quite what came to mind. Hot, insane, blow his fucking mind? That was closer. But it still wasn’t all of it. There was something more that he was feeling. Something strong and possessive. Something that made him want to tell her things that he’d never told anyone else in his life. Something he wasn’t sure he liked. He liked to keep things light and fun. Brittany was fun, but nothing about how he was feeling right now was light.
