Neither of us lasted longer than another minute. It was like trying to hold back an avalanche. Tensing at the same time, we both came with long shudders.
This time, she barely made a sound. Teeth clamped on her lip, gorgeous eyes wide. I collapsed, groaning her name into her neck, hoping it was enough to make her understand what a miracle she was.
Isla Lang. Love of my fucking life.
Now I had to find a way to make it right. Find a way to keep her.
34
Isla
I woke in delicious confusion. Warm and cocooned, without the notion of time or place. Dust particles danced in front of my eyes, illuminated from the beam of sunlight where the curtains were drawn back.
Not my room. It was far too clean.
Blinking, I found a clock on the bedside table: eleven a.m.
Shit, I never slept that late.
I tried to sit, and felt the stiffness in my limbs. An acute soreness between my legs I don’t think I’d ever felt. Glancing over my shoulder, I found Alistair’s tired gaze on me, and his calf brushed mine in the middle of the bed.
“Morning.” His voice was sleep-roughened, a tired smile on his face that made me blush as the night played back like a film reel.
Yelling at each other. Stumbling to the sofa. Him fucking me into the mattress until my voice had grown hoarse. “I’m in your bed.”
“Aye.”
“We had sex,” I said a little stupidly.
Bloody hell. I sounded like an eighteen-year-old who’d just lost her virginity.
He stared at me from his side of the bed. “Aye.”
That was it?That’s all he had to say?
It hadn’t just been the once either. Somehow, we’d crammed weeks’ worth of want into a single night.
And it had been . . . frighteningly good.
I mean, I’d expected the sex to be good. Look at the man. There was no plane of existence where he was bad in bed. But he’d been . . .ravenous. Insatiable.
I was pretty certain we’d attempted every position in existence that allowed us to maintain eye contact.
Me in his lap. On my knees while he spilled down my throat, my hair curled around his finger,Islaon his lips. And afterwards,You take care of me so well, Isla,had been tattooed in low whispers over every inch of my skin.
I think I’d enjoyed that encounter the best.
Around three a.m., he’d even watched me shower. His hands gripping the marble vanity like he’d been about to yank it off the wall. I think he got off on the waiting, because the second I’d towelled off, he’d dragged me to the sofa and pulled me astride him. Both of us sharing the temporary illusion that I was in charge.
Limp and trembling, it hadn’t taken long for my overworked thighs to give out, and he’d lifted me through every thrust while I groaned my orgasm into his mouth.
Now all he had to say wasAye.
“You want me to leave,” I realised with a cold slap.
Of course he did.What was I even thinking?I might not have any experience with casual sex, but last night had very much been a one-and-done situation. Well . . . a five and done technically. But I should have gone home hours ago. Never should have fallen asleep in the first place.
Holding the sheet to my chest, I shuffled to the edge of the bed, wincing as my entire body protested.
