Can't Get Enough (Skyland, #3)(110)
“Hen, shit.” I squeeze my eyes closed, struggling to stave off an avalanche. “Want you to come first.”
She reaches between her legs, locks her eyes with mine and pulls her dress back. The sight of me inside her, of her stretched around me and of her caressing herself, is the final straw. The last of my control loosens like a spool of thread. Never breaking the bond of our bodies, I lift her onto the desk and stand.
“Hell, yes,” she groans and wraps her legs around my hips, drawing me in even closer.
I grip under her thighs and dive in deep and hard and fast and desperate. It’s an unforgiving pace that moves the desk a few inches, the legs scaping across the floor, but I don’t stop. Can’t. It’s too good. It’d be like calling an astronaut back from the moon. I’m in another galaxy, lost in her stars. Completely removed from earth and so far beyond anything I’ve ever felt with anyone else.
“That’s my spot.” She leans back, bracing her hands on the desk. “Right there. Don’t stop.”
I drill in and out, in and out until she bites her bottom lip to stifle the scream vibrating between her teeth. I growl like a fucking animal, sweat rolling down my temples and forehead. My shirt clings wetly to my arms and chest. My balls draw almost painfully tight and it feels like every muscle in my body goes from stasis to spasm in an instant.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I chant into the scented, satiny curve of her neck. “I’m coming.”
She grabs my ass and pulls me deeper. “Gimme that.”
I know it’s only seconds, but it feels like I pour myself into her, literally body and soul, for an eternity. And she takes it, squeezing my ass, running her hands across the bare skin of my back beneath my T-shirt. She pushes it up and feathers kisses on my chest, sucking my nipples and running her hands over my abs. She stares into my eyes, her hands gripping my waist.
“You know you’re mine, right?” she asks in a sex-scraped rasp.
I nod because who the hell else would I want to belong to?
“And you?” I cup her cheek, grip her chin, trap her gaze. “Can you say the same?”
She drops her hand between us, touching the place where we’re still joined, a physical vow of flesh. When she looks up, her eyes are sober, mouth a soft, swollen curve.
“It scares me to death,” she says. “But yeah, I’m yours.”
“Why does being mine scare you?” I trace the slope of her cheekbone. “I won’t hurt you.”
She nods, but scoots back a little until there is space between us. I immediately want to be inside her again, to be that intimately inseparable.
“I can’t believe I did that.” She laughs, shaking her head. “I’ve never had sex here.”
“You haven’t?”
“In my mama’s house? No way.” She looks horrified and gestures around her. “Not with the Lord’s Prayer on every wall.”
“So I’m your exception?” I tease.
“I guess you are.” She rolls her eyes and yields a small smile. She stands, folding her dress between her legs to catch the wetness. “What a mess. We don’t have this problem when we use condoms.”
“About that, I’ll show you my test, that I’m negative.” I pull my pants up and smile like a drunk still buzzing. “If we can keep doing it raw.”
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” She smiles, still adjusting the dress between her legs.
I stoop to grab her underwear from under the desk, stuffing them in my pocket.
“Seriously, Mav?” She wrinkles her nose.
“You’re not getting ’em back so don’t even ask.”
“I cannot believe I had sex in my mama’s house.”
“You’re just a church girl at heart, huh?”
“Not really, but my mother and my aunt definitely are.” She grimaces. “I need to get cleaned up.”
“I kind of like the idea of you just staying like that all day,” I say, only half joking.
“That’s nasty, Mav.”
Her mother’s voice singing a vaguely familiar tune seeps through the office door and walls.
“Shit!” Hendrix whisper-shouts, eyes panicked. “Mama!”
She points to me, her expression completely serious.
“Now listen here, Mav. I need to get to my room without Mama seeing me like this. You go out first and tell her you’re hungry. She had a really good day yesterday and cooked. I tasted it. There’s no sugar or baking soda in weird places. She’ll take you in the kitchen and feed you. Then I can run up the hall, shower, and change.”
“I actually am hungry.” I rest a hand on my stomach. “I missed breakfast.”
“See?” She fake smiles and shoves me toward the door. “It’s working already. Go.”
“You’re a bully,” I complain, but smile.
“You like this bully.”
No, I love this…
Shit.
I’m frozen for a second, the reality of what I’m thinking and still haven’t told her sinking in.
“Hey.” Hendrix snaps her fingers in my face. “I’m sticky. Go!”
I shake my head like I’m coming out of a trance and leave the room. Leaning against the door for a second, I try to gather my thoughts and slow my heartbeat.