“Yes,” I gasp out, clawing at the sheets while he holds inside me. “God, yes.”
He barely moves and sparks ignite inside me. My insides contract, gripping him so tightly, he growls in my ear as I pant into the mattress.
His fingers wind into my hair, pulling and turning my head to the side. Is he afraid I can’t breathe?
I can’t think about it, as he moves again, pressing just a bit deeper.
We’re hardly moving, but inside, I’m on fire, my toes curling as I just try and hang on. I squeeze my eyes shut, making these muttering little pleas as he pulls out and then plunges back in.
That’s all it takes and I totally lose it, the orgasm that rips through me making me see stars as I twist my hands in the blankets, the noises coming out of my mouth unrecognizable even to me.
Rush pulls my hair harder and then slams into me, once, twice, three more times before he roars, cumming deep inside me.
And then he collapses on top of me, both of us out of breath.
My eyes slide closed, my body so perfectly satiated, I think I really might sleep for a week.
He’s still on top of me, his weight only adding to the feeling that the rest of the world has melted away.
“Gigi.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, already drifting off.
His lips find my spine, kissing at the base of my neck. “You should go to the bathroom before you fall asleep.”
I pry my eyes open. “I’m perfectly capable of regulating my own bladder.”
He chuckles, his body sliding to the side. “I know that. But I also know that your body isn’t used to sex currently and that?—”
“Do you have a lot of sex like that?” I’m wide awake again, as jealousy rips through my gut. I try to hold it back, knowing it means nothing but trouble. He hasn’t made me any promises and I’m not sure I even have the right to ask.
“No,” he smiles at me, with a knowing smile, as he brushes my hair back. “That was another level.”
I lay my head back down, but the moment of bliss has passed, the doubts start to creep in.
Trying to get control, I slide out from beside him, and scoot toward the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling insecure about standing up naked in front of him.
I’m a woman who’s had a baby, and I’ve never been the thinnest girl. I start to reach for the extra blanket at the end of the bed, when his hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist.
He’s on his side, looking like a Greek statue of a god as his eyes hold mine for a second before he pulls me down, stopping me when my face is an inch from his. Then, he kisses my lips, with a lingering touch that pushes away some of the insecurity.
“You’re gorgeous, love, and the sex was magic. Don’t doubt either.”
My cheeks heat, but pleasure makes me warm. “Thank you.”
He lets my hand go, and then he rolls off the side of the bed, bending down to pick up his clothes. He’s leaving.
I knew he would. This isn’t a relationship. We’re not sleeping in bed together, even if we just had sex.
But he doesn’t pull his shirt on. Instead, he takes the collared shirt and shakes it out, draping the fabric over my shoulders.
“Arms,” he rumbles as he looks at me. I realize I’ve been staring instead of responding.
I thought he was leaving. Instead, I push my arms through his collared shirt and stand, pushing up the sleeves.
Then I start for the bathroom, all the warmth returning. He’s not leaving, and now, I’m wearing his clothes.
He pulls out his briefs, tugging them on. “Wait.”
