A shudder racked him. “You can’t what? Stop?”
Was she nodding or shaking her head? She had no idea. The deep press of his hardness robbed her of rational thought, sensation rushing to her core, quickening those intimate muscles, turning them into throbbing little pulse points.
“Hannah,” Fox said, forcing her to look him in the eye, his breath pelting her lips. “Are you on something?”
“Yes,” she sobbed, the importance of the conversation finally making it through the sex static in her brain. “Yes, I get the shot. I get it.”
She rode him with a circle of her hips, and his eyes rolled back in his head. “Oh. Jesus. That feels so fucking good.” He visibly struggled to remain coherent. “I’m clean. Got checked last time you were here.”
That confession made her quake. “And there’s been no one since, has there.”
It wasn’t a question. She already knew the answer.
Eyes clenching shut, he shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “God no, Freckles. I only want to be touched by you.”
His mouth was back on hers, kissing her into a state of desperation, his hands holding her buttocks tight to rake her up and back in his lap, his thickness entering and leaving her in smooth strokes that rubbed that place, oh Lord, that spot. Right there. It was already swollen from his fingers, and now he exploited it, moving just right. Exactly how she needed, delivering friction that engulfed her entire body in heat. Made her feel sexual and powerful and feminine and uninhibited. So much so that she broke the kiss to lean back, offering her breasts to his mouth with unsteady hands, whining his name when he sucked her nipples eagerly, hungrily, left then right, their flesh now beginning to smack wetly.
And then Fox brought a hand down, roughly slapping her bottom, his teeth capturing the lobe of her ear. “Touch your clit.” He spanked her again. Harder. Twice. “Help me get you there, Hannah. Now. Jesus, you’ve got me so fucking thick, I don’t even know when the end is coming. I just know if I touch you there, it’s over. Play with it.”
Breath rattling in and out of her parted lips, Hannah dragged her shaking right hand downward from his shoulder and found that sensitive bud, biting her lip as she rubbed it up and down, up and down, switching to quick, quick circles, her moan mingling with Fox’s as he jerked her up and back, faster, faster.
“Look at me while you do it.” A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his head. “Look at me while we get you off.”
“Not just me,” she managed on an exhale.
He shook his head, the movement jerky. “Inside this tight thing without a rubber watching you ride dick like you’ve never had it so good?” He leaned back on his elbows and started to upthrust, abdomen flexing, bouncing her on his lap, breaking the dam of her pleasure wide open. “Nothing in this world could stop me getting off.”
Hannah crested, lungs seizing, muscles locking tight as the orgasm took control, keeping her body prisoner while it wreaked havoc, clenching her sex around Fox and taking him past the breaking point, too. They ground out the pleasure, hips pushing down and pressing up, fingers digging into skin, teeth scraping flesh, loud groans rending the air of the glowing pink bedroom, his moisture streaking down her inner thighs, his dirty speech echoing in her head, prolonging the pleasure.
Inside this tight thing without a rubber . . .
Watching you ride dick . . .
Fox went flat on his back, taking Hannah with him, both of them spent but remaining locked together, her head resting on his shoulder. Their harsh inhales and exhales filled the room, his fingertips stroking up and down her back through the cooling sweat, mouth moving in her hair. A priceless embrace that was everything right in the world. Everything honest and perfect. And . . .
She wasn’t giving this up.
God help her, she’d ridden the tide of more emotions tonight than she’d ever experienced in her life. Hopefulness, denial, devastation, anger. When he’d walked into Cross and Daughters obviously determined to break up with her, she’d lost her courage. Her resolve. The heartache had been so immense, there’d been no room for positivity. There was only survival. But before he’d returned from the ocean, she’d decided to fight, hadn’t she? And now here she was, at the final round, weaving on her feet, closing in on unconsciousness, ready to quit just to mitigate the pain. Isn’t this when she needed to be at her strongest?
Isn’t this when being a leading lady really counted? When she wanted to quit?
And after what she’d accomplished over the last two weeks, she didn’t have any excuses. She could do anything. She could be brave. Lying in the fetal position with a pint of ice cream wasn’t going to salvage a relationship she knew damn well could be amazing and lasting. Fox needed her to believe in him right now, when his self-doubt was blinding him—and she needed to believe in herself, too.