“Remington.” Her name was a broken prayer.
Urging him on with her body, she pulled her knees higher. “Please.”
When he sank back into her, it was again too much and not enough. But this time, he pulled out faster, thrust in harder. This. This. This. As his body rocked into hers, he set a rhythm she couldn’t keep up with.
This was what she needed, where she belonged. Taking each punishing drive. Relaxing her body to accommodate him. Giving Brick what he needed somehow gave her what she needed. She hung on to him, nails digging perfect little crescents into his shoulders as he buried his face in her hair and fucked her.
Every thrust, every time he hit bottom, every slap of his sack between her thighs, every pained grunt swirled into an intoxicating recipe for her senses. She felt closer to him than any other human being on the planet. She wondered if their souls were touching. If they were becoming one.
The pace he set was brutal. Sweat slicked his skin and hers as he forced her to accept him. Every inch. Every dark secret and need.
She was ecstatic. The build, the climb was so steep, she’d never been to these heights before. The trembling started in her inner walls and spread everywhere from the roots of her hair to her fingertips. Something her body had never experienced was about to happen.
“I feel you getting tighter and tighter around me. Do you feel how it makes my dick swell inside you?” he demanded as he pummeled into her body.
She bowed back, lifting her hips to meet his thrusts.
“Baby. My baby doll,” he breathed. “You’re gonna come on my cock. And when you do, you’re gonna squeeze me so tight you milk every fucking drop out of me.”
She couldn’t see anything but the picture he was painting. Her heels dug into his thick, bare behind, urging him to go faster, harder. She could take it. She would take anything if it gave her the privilege of feeling him let loose inside her.
“Yes, Brick,” she whispered, knowing it would drive him wild.
“That’s right, baby. Take me.”
There were so many pulses of light sparking to life in her body. So many nerves frayed open to the sensation of being dominated. She hadn’t known it would be like this. Hadn’t known how fucking beautiful it would feel.
His hands were under her again, lifting her hips, spreading her ass cheeks as he speared into her over and over again.
The climb was over. She’d reached the top, the peak. There was a serious concern that she wouldn’t survive the fall. But Brick wouldn’t allow her to step back.
“Now, baby doll. Now,” he grunted as he slammed into her tight sheath again. This time, he held at the bottom. Her muscles clamped down on every inch of his swollen arousal. It had to hurt him, didn’t it? There wasn’t enough room.
There was a split second when she worried that her muscles would never relax again. That she’d spend the rest of her life clamped around Brick’s perfect dick even long after he was gone from her.
But then he went rigid against her, in her. Holding in deeper than anyone had ever ventured, he let go on a shout of triumph. She felt it hot and thick, painting her insides as the first rope of his release let loose.
Her body exploded as if on command. Her muscles loosened just as he pulled out, only to clamp back down as he slammed into her again. She bucked against him.
She held on tight to her anchor. Her Brick as the world spun around them.
Every time she contracted around him, he ejaculated deeper into her. In sync, their bodies rode out their world-ending orgasms together, using each other to maximize the absolute pleasure.
Soul-changing. There would be a definitive before and after in her life. Before she’d felt Brick come inside her and after. It was warm and welcoming and messy and perfect. And she wanted more.
“My girl. My Remi,” he whispered brokenly as his hips bucked against her, drawing out the last quakes of their orgasms together.
30
Brick woke in the dark, awareness slowly creeping in through his senses. His body felt loose-limbed and well-used. The tension that had coiled within him for years was gone, replaced by something else. Something…warm. Almost glowing. Something that spread through him, waking him up and making him feel alive.
The air and sheets smelled like them. Their unique scent.
She was unsurvivable. A man didn’t just get up and walk away from Remi Ford. He stared up at the sky and wondered what the hell had just brought him to his knees.
Had he known it would be like this? Is that why he fought so hard to stay away?
There was a clear demarcation in his life. Before he’d made her his. And after. Now.
He reached for her in the dark, intending to pull her warm little body into his arms and feel the beat of her heart. To remind himself it hadn’t been a dream.
But she wasn’t there.
He sat upright and tried to peer through the darkness. The warm, glowing thing inside him gave way to fear. Sharp and claw-like. Where was she? Had she left?
An irrational panic sliced through his post-orgasmic bliss. Kicking off the tangle of sheets, he found the bedside lamp and slapped it on. Her side of the bed was rumpled. She’d been there. It hadn’t been a dream. He realized she’d slept in the dark with him and wondered if he’d made her feel safe enough.
Maybe that’s why she’d left.
He found his underwear halfway under the bed and dragged them on.
When he burst out of the bedroom door, he found her immediately, and his body reacted with a mixture of relief and longing.
She was curled up in one of the chairs in front of the dark windows over the water. Her hair was a curtain of fire that he longed to run his fingers through. Those slim fingers were wrapped around a mug. She had music playing softly from a speaker on the table. Some kind of instrumental jazz. He wondered what it looked like to her.
She studied him with an unreadable expression.
“What’s wrong?” he rasped, his voice still thick with sleep.
She smiled then. A soft kind of opening that had him by the fucking heart.
“You look awfully cute when you wake up,” she said quietly. “I always wondered.”
Self-consciously, he combed a hand through his hair. He wanted to go to her. He wanted to wrap her into his arms and never let go. She belonged to him now. And he was fucking terrified that she didn’t understand that yet.
Instead, he walked into the kitchen and helped himself to a sturdy mug of coffee. To feel closer to her, he opened the fridge and added her creamer.
“I thought you liked it black?” she said when he took the chair next to her.
“I thought you slept at four a.m.”
She took a sip of her coffee and used a bare foot to toe the chair around to face him. “I can’t sleep.”
He had about a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue. But none of them came out. Did she have regrets? It would annihilate him if she regretted what they’d done. What’d he’d done.
She was wearing the same oversized Mackinac PD sweatshirt he’d seen on her just a few weeks ago.
“I’ve been looking for that shirt,” he said mildly.
Her smile was coy, and it went straight to his gut.
“I borrowed it a few years ago.”
“Remi, are you okay?” he asked finally. “With what we did?”
Her face softened again, and she reached out with one pale hand. She gripped his arm with a strength that surprised him.