He withdrew.
Eyes on her, he thrust deep.
This time, it was slow. Deliberate. She didn’t speak. He didn’t, either. Too intense for words. Need pulsed in the air, but it was different. Silent but savage. Just as consuming as before, but still, different.
A slow withdrawal of his dick.
Then that thick, hard thrust.
Her thighs trembled around him. Her entire body trembled. She was so close to coming again. So close, and he was going to watch her. Going to see every single moment.
One of his hands still wedged between their bodies. His fingers raked over her clit.
Her head tipped back against the wall. Her eyes began to drift closed as the climax reached out to take her.
“I need to see, Delaney.” Growled. “I need to see every moment of your pleasure. Look at me.”
She did. The orgasm hit her even as her eyes locked with his. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. Could only feel as the release seemed to ravage every cell in her body. Pleasure didn’t pulse. It consumed. It claimed. It owned.
“So fucking beautiful,” he rasped. He’d gone still as she climaxed. That hard dick was lodged fully inside of her, and he had to feel her squeezing him. Greedy. Hungry. Squeezing and taking and taking.
“Fuck.” A muscle jerked along his jaw.
He poured inside of her. Locked together, her eyes on him, she watched the pleasure sweep over him. The release had her holding him ever tighter, and the way his eyes seemed to go blind, the way his features sharpened even more…
Yes, fucking beautiful.
The water pounded down on them.
“Guess if the ceremony had been real, we would have just consummated the marriage, huh?” Delaney had no idea why she said those words. Maybe to break the heavy silence that had followed the amazing sex in the shower.
He’d carried her from the shower, dried her off, and carefully checked her wound. He’d assured her that she was healing well, and he’d put a fresh bandage on her cut. Then…
Silence.
She wore a white, fluffy robe. Nash had jerked on a pair of jeans. They were in the bedroom, the windows were covered, the classical music kept playing, and it should have been an incredibly romantic scene, but something was just off now. That off made her worry.
“Fuck,” Nash said.
He said that a lot.
She peered at him and saw that he’d just squeezed his eyes closed. Delaney frowned. “Is something wrong?” She knew it was.
A jerky nod.
“You…you regret what we did?” Her fingers pressed to her heart. Catching the movement, she immediately dropped her hand.
His eyes opened. His face was still way too hard. A fierce mask. “I will never regret fucking you. That is just not humanly possible for me to do.”
“That’s good to know.” She wet her lips. “I, um, certainly don’t regret being with you, either. You’re the best lover I’ve ever had.”
He stalked toward her.
Her stomach did a little flip. Her thighs were still trembling. She wondered if he was coming across the room to grab her, to passionately sweep her into his arms. Maybe he’d toss her onto the bed, and they’d slam their bodies together again in a wild frenzy of lust. Maybe that would happen.
Or maybe not.
His hands slapped against the wall behind her. “I don’t like to think of you fucking anyone else.”
