He looks vulnerable and suddenly unsure.
I cup his face and kiss him. “I want you,” I murmur.
“You’re so beautiful.”
His cock is hard and pressed against my stomach.
“What do you want?” I whisper.
“I want you to ride me.”
My body is trembling from pleasure. Reece moves up the bed, and with unsteady limbs, I straddle him. There’s no embarrassment, but I swear my legs are shaking so hard, I don’t know how I managed it. Gripping my headboard to steady myself, I position his cock at my entrance and lower myself onto him. Not only is he huge, but his cock is thick. It takes a second for me to adjust to the feel of him, and then I rock my hips.
Reece lets out a growl, and his hands go to my hips. “Dammit, Ava, you feel so good.” His hand moves to cup my breast and tease my nipple as I ride him. Reece flexes upward, and I gasp in pleasure, moving faster. “Ava, look at me.”
One of my hands moves to his chest as I ride him harder. My fingernails dig in as we keep eye contact. The hand on my breast moves down between us as his thumb presses against my clit.
“Reece!”
“Come for me again, Ava. Come for me as you ride my cock.”
His thumb presses harder, and I shatter.
It tears through me faster than I expect, a hot, rolling wave that starts where he’s touching me and spreads until I feel it in my throat, behind my eyes, in the soles of my feet. I cry out, my hips stuttering, losing the rhythm I’ve been holding, and Reece grips me, holding me steady while my entire body comes apart on top of him.
“I’ve got you,” he says, low and certain.
I believe him.God help me, I believe him.
He keeps moving beneath me, drawing it out, his hips rolling up in slow, deep strokes that hit somewhere so precise I can’t catch my breath between one pulse of pleasure and the next. My nails dig into his chest. I feel him watch me with his focused, patient attention that undoes me, and I stop caring what I look like, stop managing any of it, and simply feel.
“Look at me,” he says again, quieter this time. Not an order. A request.
I open my eyes.
He’s watching my face the way he watches the strike zone. Nothing else in the world exists. I’m the only thing worth reading.
Something cracks open in my chest that has nothing to do with the orgasm still echoing through me.
“Reece.” His name comes out differently this time. No warning in it. Just him.
“Yeah,” he says, and he hears the difference too.
I lean down and kiss him deeply and slowly. It’s nothing like our first kiss outside the studio or the desperate, stolen things we’ve managed in the weeks since. This one says something I don’t have words for yet. He makes a sound against my mouth, low and undone, his hands sliding from my hips up my back and pulling me closer as if he can’t get enough of the contact.
I roll my hips and feel him shudder.
His control, the thing he wears like armor, the thing that makes him legendary on the mound, is gone. All of it. He’s just a man with his hands in my hair, his eyes closed, and his breath ragged against my lips.
I did that.Me.
The thought is heady and soft at the same time, and I chase it by moving again, finding the rhythm we lost, setting it back on my own terms this time, slower, deeper, watching his jaw work and his chest rise and fall.
“Ava.”Wrecked.My name has never sounded like that before.
“I’ve got you,” I say back, using his own words. He opens his eyes, and the look on his face does something to me I’m not ready to name.
I rock forward, change the angle, and he groans and grips the sheets.
