“I have a girl in mind,” he tells me. “But here’s the thing…” He begins to unbutton his shirt, and I start a mantra in my head. Focus on his words, Lily, not his abs. Words. Not abs. Words. Not abs. Definitely not his cock. “Last time I made love to her, she ended up crying when we finished.”
My head whips up. “I didn’t cry,” I defend. “I had salt sweat in my eye. That’s a thing, you know.”
“She cried,” he continues without missing a beat, his lips curving. “She had these big tears in her eyes and she turned into this sappy love monster, blubbering about how much she loved me.”
He starts moving this time, and I try hard not to smile.
“I did not.” I bite my lip and then give up, my grin spreading. “If I remember correctly, I told you that I could feel your soul. It was poetic.”
His knees knock into mine and his shirt slides open, revealing his bare chest. But I don’t have to chant my mantra any longer. His amber eyes and sharpened words have my undivided attention. The humor floats away and his hand glides to my cheek. “It was beautiful,” he breathes.
Thoughts creep into my head, and I can’t stop my mouth. “Did you come home just for a nooner?”
I internally groan. Way to go, Lily. Ruin the moment.
He reads my embarrassment and breaks into a smile. “I’m not being clear enough?”
“Ummm…” My mind has blanked. Flat-lined. I am brain dead.
He stirs me back to life by grabbing my hand and placing it right over his pants. On his erection. “Do we have an understanding now?”
Oh yeah.
We’re fucking.
Or making love.
Both. Maybe both.
I’m dancing and hoola-hooping on the inside. He throws his shirt on the floor and my eyes meet his. I’m not removing my hand. It’s just going to stay right there. “You know what this means?” I ask.
He narrows his eyes and leans forward, causing me to lie back on the bed. His fingers find my jean’s buttons, not waiting any longer. “You’re going to have to help me out with this one, Lil.”
I frown. “They’re normal buttons.”
He smiles again. I could get used to that. “Not the buttons. Help me with your question.”
I flush. Right. “Well, you came to me for sex. You’re the one undressing me. You’re practically begging me to fuck you.”
“Am I?” Even with his lips together and flat, he’s still smiling. I see it in his eyes.
I nod wildly. “Oh yeah. The tables have turned, Loren Hale. This is a monumental day. You are aroused before me.” I grin.
He shimmies my jeans to the ground, and I’m too elated to realize that my panties have gone with them. When his fingers enter me, I gasp and drop my hand off his pants. His fingers pulse just slightly, and my head collapses back on the mattress. “You feel aroused to me,” he says softly.
Fuck.
“Key word: Before,” I reply in a staggered breath.
I’m about to lift myself on my elbows, but I don’t have time. He doesn’t give me warning before he replaces his fingers with his erection, entering me fully. I cry out in euphoric pleasure. Every inch of me thrums, like an instrument vibrating in blistering joy.
He hikes my leg over his hip, deepening himself. He doesn’t pull away, not yet. His lips find mine and he kisses me fervently, without pause or hesitation. Ever since I started recovery, I could see the reluctance in Lo’s eyes. Like a nightly passenger to our passion. I never thought he’d gain enough confidence in himself, enough trust in me, and enough hope in our relationship to let all those hesitations go. To make love to me so unrestrained that every movement is an impulse and nothing takes a second thought.
It’s just natural.
He thrusts and lets me move my hips to meet his. I moan deeply, the noise catching in the back of my throat. He smiles and his movements become harder, more aggressive. I no longer attempt to rock my body into his, not when I’m white-knuckling his biceps and holding on for dear fucking life.
His low grunts fill my ears and send my body over the edge. I feel myself riding the steep mountain to my peak. “Lo,” I choke. “I can’t…hold on…”
He stops moving all together and I let out an involuntary whimper. At least, I think it’s involuntary. I would never make that noise on a voluntary basis.
Lo rubs the sweat off my forehead with his hand. “Come now,” he tells me. He presses feather-light kisses to my neck.