It takes my breath away.
It rocks me to my very core as I come over and over inside her.
The lasting ripples of pleasure casually throb up and down my spine as I collapse on top of her.
Her arms wrap around my back and her hands gently caress my shoulders as we both catch our breath. After a few seconds, I lift up just enough so not all of my weight is on top of her, and I reach up to brush my thumb over her cheek.
“Are you okay?” I ask, worried that I was too rough.
“I’m perfect,” she answers with a sated smile. She lifts up and presses another kiss to my lips. “I’m really so perfect, Huxley.”
And she looks like she is. Heady eyes. Satisfied smile. Relaxed body.
“Are we able to just lie here for a second?” she asks.
“As long as you want. Let me just get something to clean us up.” I press one more kiss to her lips and then lift off her. There’s a bathroom attached to the bedroom, thankfully, so I walk in there, clean up quickly, and then wet a washcloth for her. When I turn to go back to the bedroom, I discover her standing in the bathroom doorway, wearing my shirt.
Fuck.
She looks so damn good with her hair rumpled, coming loose from her ponytail, and a satisfied expression on her face.
I hold out the washcloth. “Here,” I say.
She presses her hand to my chest, kisses my jaw, and then takes the washcloth and goes into the bathroom. Giving her some privacy, I step into my boxer briefs, then hop into bed and under the covers. We have an hour before we have to be back in our seats.
After a few minutes, she comes out of the bathroom, looking sexy as hell in my shirt, and crawls into bed next to me. I open my arm, and she curls against me, her head resting on my shoulder and her hand on my bare chest. I curl my arm around her, clutching her tight.
And just like that, I’m a taken man.
Fucking besotted.
This is what I want.
Her, in my arms.
Exactly like this.
It’s as if the last few weeks have been the most intense foreplay of my life, because the end result, Lottie in my arms . . . yeah, the best fucking thing that could happen.
“I’m on the pill,” she says softly.
“I figured,” I say, moving my hand over her hair.
“I don’t want you thinking I’m trying to trap you.”
“I’d never assume such a thing. You have too much pride to consider doing anything like that.”
“That’s true.” She chuckles. “But I thought I’d let you know anyway.”
“Thank you.” I kiss her forehead and close my eyes.
After a few beats of silence, she says, “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” I answer. I don’t think I’ve ever been this comfortable, this carefree, as I am in this moment.
“When you said it’s never been like this, did you mean that?”
“Fuck yes,” I say without skipping a beat. “I wouldn’t lie about shit like that.”
She lifts up, and I open my eyes to find her staring at me. “Are you saying I’m the best you’ve ever had?”
I chuckle. “Looking for a trophy?”
I mean it’s not a lie, she is the best, hands down. And I know a lot of that has to do with this connection I feel toward her.
“I wouldn’t mind one.”
I tickle her side and she squirms against me, laughing.
“After all you’ve put me through, I’d say a trophy wouldn’t kill you.”
“Call it character building.”
She rolls her eyes. “Such a businessman-type thing to say.”
“Get used to it. That’s who you’re dating now. A businessman.”
Her brow arches in question. “Oh, are we dating now?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “What the hell do you think tonight was?”
“A lucky night out with my fake fiancé?” She smirks.
“Is that how you want to see it?” Fuck. I hope not.
She shakes her head. “No, I don’t want to go back to whatever it was that we were. That was stressful.” She’s right. It was stressful. Not only did I have my normal job to do, but I felt enormous pressure to be someone I’m not around her. I’m not a hard-hearted asshole. I’m reticent. Slow to show my inner self. Protective. And yet, somehow she’s managed to pull deeper parts of me to the surface. But, thank fuck, she’s not tossing that back in my face. She wants more of me . . . and I want her to have it. Willingly. Gratefully.
“So then, we’re dating.”