And then he thrust.
She gasped—half pain, half pleasure—as he filled her in one smooth stroke.Nicholas stilled, grinding his teeth, every muscle in his body taut with restraint.
“Jesus, Bea,” he rasped.“You’re so damn tight.”
He buried his face in her neck as he moved, slowly at first, then faster, harder, hips pumping, one hand still gripping hers above her head.
“I’ve thought about this,” he groaned.“Every night.Every damn night.What it would feel like to be inside you.To hear the sounds you make when I fuck you.And now—hell—I’m never going to stop.”
She met him thrust for thrust, her fingers digging into her own palms, her cries growing louder, more desperate.
“I want you to come again,” he panted.“On my cock this time.Squeeze me.Milk me.Take it.”
She cried out, her whole body tightening around him, shuddering again as another orgasm crashed through her.
Nicholas followed with a roar, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled inside her, clutching her to him like a lifeline.
For a long moment, they stayed like that.Tangled.Breathless.Utterly wrecked.
Then he rolled to his side, keeping her in his arms, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“You,” he murmured, voice rough, “are going to be the death of me.”
She smiled against his chest.“You started it.”
He laughed, deep and low.“And I’ll be starting it again.Very soon.”
