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When the Stars Align
  • Текст добавлен: 4 октября 2016, 00:15

Текст книги "When the Stars Align"


Автор книги: Jeanette Grey



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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

Letting him pull her up, she smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” He tipped his head toward the next street over. “Come on. This really, really good friend of mine is going through a breakup, and so am I. If that doesn’t call for ice cream, I don’t know what does.”

The gelato shop he’d thought they might end up at was still open, so they wandered in and got a couple of dishes to go. As they hit the street again, she looked at him, twirling her tiny spoon.

“So. Is it any less weird now if I ask you about this girl you met?”

“No.” He picked a direction and started walking. “But I’m willing to pretend if you are.”

“Then tell me about her.”

So he did. Ignoring the awkwardness of it, he tried to encapsulate in words the way Jo had grabbed him and thrown him—literally, in the case of their first meeting. He described her walls and her fire and the visions he had of a vulnerable girl, somewhere just underneath. A vulnerable girl who was still one of the strongest people he’d ever known.

Through it all, Shannon listened, and when his words dried up, she clucked her tongue at him. “You’re going to have your hands full with that one.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“I think”—she hesitated—“it’ll be good for you. You need someone who challenges you.”

“You challenged me.”

“No, I didn’t. Not the way you needed to be.”

Maybe she had a point.

Over the course of his rambling, they’d finished their ice cream and wandered back toward the hotel. He took her empty cup and tossed both in the trash. He looked over at the hotel’s entrance with a stone in his throat.

Then he swallowed it down.

“Well, here we are,” she said.

It was a crazy idea. One he never would have gotten up the guts to say, not to Shannon. Not before. “Do you want to just keep going?”

“What?”

“Let’s not go there.” Not to that confining room they were supposed to share. “Let’s just keep walking.”

“All night?”

“Why not?”

A look he couldn’t read passed over her face, and he held his breath. But the clouds in her gaze parted, and the smile she flashed him was the freest, realest one he’d seen from her all night. Maybe the best one she’d given him in years. He held out his hand and she took it.

She squeezed his fingers. “All right.”

Adam woke up squinting, blinking hard against the sunlight streaming through the curtains they’d forgotten to close. He was on the floor, still in his clothes, the pillow under his head doing absolutely nothing for the ache in his spine. Groaning quietly to himself, he levered himself up with his arms to sit and glance at the clock. It was barely nine.

He and Shannon had stumbled in at half past five.

It had been good. Weird and different. But good. They’d reminisced about the past three years, and when the sun had risen, they’d returned here, to this room, where he’d insisted she take the bed.

Sitting up straighter, he gazed over at her.

Her crimson locks shone in the morning light, just like her blond hair had, but it didn’t stir a pounding in his chest the way it used to. She was beautiful, and dear to him. She was his friend. With any luck, she always would be.

And the girl who got his heart going now was waiting for him.

He didn’t want to wait anymore.

After the quickest shower known to man, it took him only a few minutes to get his suitcase out and all of his belongings crammed inside. He checked himself for his wallet and his phone, and he was ready to go out the door. Back to another life and another world. To a girl who wouldn’t be easy, or comfortable, but who might just fit.

Before he could go, he turned to the woman sleeping in the center of the bed. He scribbled out a note, thanking her, and placed it on her pillow. He left her with one soft kiss against the center of her brow, murmuring, “Love you,” beneath his breath.

And then he was off. One chapter of his life well and truly closed.

Another—he hoped—open and ready to begin.





Chapter Eleven

It’s my favorite time of day.

Jo could hear Adam’s voice in the back of her mind as she walked. Around her, twilight was settling in, the stars just beginning to come out, and she felt…

Brittle. But okay. Peaceful, in a strange sort of way.

Needing some kind of a distraction from the fact that Adam would be returning the following day, she’d spent the last nine hours in the lab, only leaving when the world beyond the windows of her office had started to dim.

One more night. Tomorrow, he’d be back. And who knew what would happen then.

All week long, she’d been circling, flitting between bitter pessimism and these stupid, ridiculous flares of hope. She’d settled now into something carefully neutral. He’d choose what he chose, and whatever it was, she’d live with it.

Clutching her binder closer to her chest, she directed her gaze up at the sky. A thousand odd miles away, under a slightly different set of stars, Adam was making his decision, or maybe acting on it, even. And she was here, doing exactly what she always did. Working. Surviving. And keeping her expectations low.

Ahead of her, the twin houses they lived in loomed, and she steeled herself. The lights in the girls’ house shone brightly, music wafting through the air. The whole crew was probably there, half of them three sheets to the wind. It’d be another late night. She’d put in an appearance, and then she’d excuse herself to her room and try to get some sleep instead of tossing and turning, letting her nerves churn.

Sighing, she dropped her head and sped her pace.

And then a voice called out to her. “I was starting to worry I was going to have to go looking for you.”

She stopped cold, peering through the darkness, her gaze homing in on the bench between the houses, the one where Adam liked to sit sometimes, except he wasn’t supposed to be here. Not tonight. He was supposed to be in Baltimore with the love of his life. Except—

Except he was here.

Something inside Jo started shaking, but she pushed it down. Adam was here. Even she and her lowered expectations couldn’t find a way to twist this into something bad.

At least the night hid the way a smile snuck across her face. It didn’t hide the catch to her voice. “I thought you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.”

“I caught an early flight.”

“And skipped an entire night?”

He rose from the bench, unfurling to his full height, the staggering breadth of his shoulders silhouetted against the light of the house. She stopped a half dozen steps away from him. Her breath fluttered hot inside her lungs.

“And skipped an entire night,” he confirmed.

Oh God.

All these worst-case scenarios she’d been spinning out over the past few days—she’d worked so hard to convince herself he’d be spending the entire conference realizing why he didn’t want her. She was too jagged, too much to handle. She’d never be able to give him what he wanted.

She hadn’t even begun to prepare for the idea that what he wanted might be her.

“And your girlfriend—Shannon—”

“I imagine she’s in Philadelphia by now.” He took a step closer, until she could see the outlines of his expression in the dim light. His eyes blazed, and there was a nakedness to him. The ways he’d been holding himself back before he’d left were stripped away. “And she’s not my girlfriend.”

Her throat went tight. “No?”

“No.”

He reached right through the distance Jo had put between them, demolished it, and shattered the last bit of reserve she’d kept against the storm she’d always known that he would be. Warm and huge, his hand settled on her arm. And then it was drifting up. Higher. To cup her face.

Her body was glass, and beneath his touch, it melted, flowing and liquid and bright hot. Throwing sparks.

“You came back for me.”

“Just like I said I would.”

“Because you can give me everything now.”

The earnestness on his face threatened to break her. “And more.”

It was the most terrifying thing she’d ever heard.

Good thing she wasn’t a big fan of listening anyway. Before he could get out another word—before she could ask another question she wasn’t ready to hear the answer to—she lifted her arm and curled a hand around his neck. His skin burned into her palm, the short hairs at the base of his skull soft and yielding beneath her fingers.

This time when she lifted up onto her tiptoes to press her lips to his, he didn’t stop her. She didn’t get the barest corner of his mouth. With a sound that set a deeper, hotter fire inside of her alight, he turned into her, pulling her hard against him. Her binder came between them, keeping her from feeling the full expanse of that muscled chest, but it didn’t matter. His one hand curved around her cheek, thumb stroking the point of it with a reverence she couldn’t think about yet, while his other gripped her hip, possessive in a way that made a lot more sense.

And his mouth—fuck, his mouth.

She scraped her teeth over the wet flesh of his lip, anticipation and need crashing and combining in her abdomen, twisting together and shooting off sparks. The points of her breasts flashed hot.

And just like that, she couldn’t take it anymore.

After all this time, inching closer and closer to each other but never quite getting there, she was ready to wreck him. Couldn’t wait to get her hands on every inch of his gorgeous body, wanted to ride him until he screamed. Finally get that fullness and satisfaction to ease the ache that had been building and building. When she was done with him, she’d have him covered in bite marks and scratches and come. And—

Shit. She tore herself away from him, shifting the hand on the back of his neck to his chest to shove at him, stealing an inch of space for herself so she could fucking think.

That was the kind of stuff she did with her one-night stands. She picked guys who looked like they were ready for it, and she never made any pretense about what she was after. It never really mattered what they thought of it, anyway, because hell if she ever planned on seeing them again. But Adam was different. That night she’d tried to kiss him, he’d held her off with so much passion in his eyes. Everything about him had said that if they went down this road, he’d be looking for more.

And even if it was just one night—for these next five weeks, they’d be living and eating and sleeping and working within spitting distance of each other. Manning a telescope together, their advisors and all these people here gossiping about them.

She had to stop. Had to slow down.

Except slowing down seemed to be the last thing Adam had in mind.

His gaze was molten in the darkness, his eyes hooded, and he didn’t let her get very far. “God, Jo. I want—” He bit off the word, the same way she’d been nipping her own desires in the bud.

It made her breath catch in her throat. “Yeah?”

“I want you. So much.” His fingers flexed against her hip, like he wanted to hold her even more tightly but wasn’t allowing himself to. “I’ve been thinking about it. The whole time, ever since I got on that plane to come back here.” He shook his head. “Since the first time I saw you. I’ve tried not to, but I couldn’t help it. What I want to do to you—what I want you to do to me…”

There was a hitch in his voice as he said that last part, and a flare of heat licked between Jo’s legs. Maybe they were on the same page after all.

“Tell me all about it,” she said, tugging him down into a kiss that was even wetter and deeper than the first.

It was a bitch move, because it wasn’t as if she gave him a chance to get much more than a word or a grunt out as she sucked on his tongue. With a hand wrapped in the fabric of his T-shirt, she tugged him along, walking backward toward his house. He got with the program fast, quickening their pace as he advanced. When she stumbled over a bit of uneven ground, he knocked her breath from her lungs by catching her. His hands slid from her sides to her hips to her ass, then lower, and she shrieked as he pulled her against him, lifted her up.

And damn but she could get into that. With a hop, she let him take her weight. Clutched her binder with one arm and clung to his neck with the other. Folded her legs around his waist to put all of him in contact with all of her, and she ground against him, bracing herself against how sparklingly, impossibly good that felt. He was hard beneath his clothes, and big, too, from the feel of it, and all her plans were back on the table.

“The things I’m going to do to you . . .” she mumbled, kissing her way to his ear, where she rasped her teeth against the lobe.

He lengthened his strides, a raw noise tearing out of his throat.

Clearly the man wasn’t a virgin. But there was something about the way he responded to her, a lack of artifice to the way he pressed into her touch, groaned and panted and made all these perfect little sounds… It made her feel like she was breaking him in. Like she was taking the cover off a cherry ride and finally giving that engine of his a chance to go.

In a feat of coordination and strength that was way, way hotter than it had any right to be, he managed to get the front door to the guys’ house open without dropping her or hardly even jostling her.

“Jesus fucking—” she started, kicking the door closed behind them.

He cut her off with a stifled laugh and kiss and muttered, “Shh,” against her lips. “Tom’ll hear.”

She didn’t really give a shit what his housemate did or didn’t hear while they were fucking, but she wasn’t the one who had to live with the guy, so she showed a little mercy, working to stay quiet while pushing her hips into his with intent. A perverse pleasure, but a pleasure all the same when she managed to make him whine, and louder than he meant to if his bitten-off curse was any indication.

He hurried them down the hall. The instant he had them in his room, he slammed her up against the door, shifting a hand away from her ass to flick on the light. She blinked hard at the shock of brightness.

The sudden vision of this man, all flushed skin and sinful lips, blond hair and eyes that she suddenly couldn’t read.

He tore her binder from her and tossed it on the floor. His forearm slapped against the door beside her head, and she startled. There was a growl to his voice as he said, “You are so… fucking…”

And she couldn’t help it. Her mind supplied all the words that should go with that. Bitchy, difficult, stubborn, such a pain in my…

“Hot,” he finally finished.

Just like that, it wasn’t any mystery at all to read his gaze. Their eyes had had time to adjust to the light, but his pupils were still huge, his nostrils flaring, and there wasn’t any mistaking the way he pinned her with his hips. That insistent hardness there, pressing exactly where she wanted it to be.

But it wasn’t just sex, the way he was looking at her. Sex would have been easy. He had to go ahead and make it tender, too.

“So sexy,” he said, his tone warm, fingers gentle as he ran them through the blue and black strands that had fallen into her eyes. “Your hair.” His hand drifted down, the broad pad of his thumb sliding across her bottom lip. “Your mouth.” He leaned in to kiss her. His teeth tugged at her piercing, and it sent lightning coursing all the way to her clit. “And this.” Stroking the tendrils of ink that crept above the neckline of her shirt, he kissed her deeper. “Teasing me all this time.”

Maybe it was a fetish. Maybe this clean-cut, all-American guy had a thing for a girl with a little bite.

But it didn’t feel like that. Not then.

The reverence in his touch brushed against something she kept locked too deeply away, and she squirmed against the way it threatened to break free. She hitched herself up higher against his hips and looked him straight in the eye. Made her tone drip sex when that was only the beginning of it.

“Maybe it’s about time it finally stopped teasing you, then, huh?”

He paused for a second, and she held her breath. But then he grinned. Warm and open as he let her deflect. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds so good.”

With a little grunt, he heaved her back off the door again, supporting her weight as he turned and stumbled the half dozen feet or so to the bed. He dropped her onto it before climbing up himself, settling his knees to either side of her thighs, bracing himself on his arms so he hovered above her. Christ, his eyes were blue, his mouth red and bitten. It’d look amazing between her legs, his chin slick with her.

Who was she kidding?

It’d look amazing just about anywhere.

Still smiling, he dipped to kiss her, drifting a hand down the length of her torso. When his palm curved around her breast, she closed her eyes, feeling her nipples constrict. Feeling the way he paused at what he found there.

“No way.” He said it under his breath, but there wasn’t any missing it. Her lips curled up despite herself. If he liked the ink and the hoop through her lip, he was going to lose his shit over this.

“Way,” she countered.

Taking it for the permission it was, he scrambled to shove her shirt up. She helped him get it off, raising her arms, pulling her overshirt and tank top away as one. He leaned in to press his mouth to the center of her ribs, wet, sucking kisses that had an urgency to them, just like the nudges of his dick against her hip. When he peeled the edge of her bra down and got up close and personal with the barbell through her nipple, he groaned aloud.

“You like?” she guessed, running her fingers through his hair as he stared.

He buried his face against her chest. “Fuck. If I’d known this was under here, too…”

She laughed. When had sex ever been this fun? When had a partner taken this kind of joy in looking? Touching? Discovering?

When had she ever let them?

Lifting his gaze, he circled the hardened peak of her tit with his finger. “Can I?”

She gestured helplessly, because seriously? Was this guy for real? “Be my guest.”

He made another little noise that threatened to turn her inside out and cupped her flesh, shifting to get his mouth on her, and Jesus. She let her head fall as heat zipped down her spine, another rough surge of wetness making her ready to move this all along already. She didn’t want to rush him or anything, but she was dying here.

Without dislodging his mouth or interrupting that thing he was doing with his tongue, she shifted to prop herself up on one elbow, reaching behind herself to undo the clasp of her bra. She flopped back down and pulled the straps off her arms, and he seemed to like that even better, helping to tug the thing off before sucking her piercing between his lips again.

She’d always been a fan of equality, though, both between the sexes and between her breasts. Her nipple was getting oversensitive, so she redirected him to her other one. He went at it with nearly the same enthusiasm, if perhaps a bit less curiosity. Arching into the warmth of those probing lips, she ran her hands down the length of his spine until she could get at the hem of his top. With what seemed like real reluctance, he separated himself from her flesh long enough to let her get his shirt over his head. But when he made to dip toward her tits once more, she rolled her eyes and stopped him, pressing a palm to his chest.

His big, broad, rippling chest.

“Uh-uh,” she tutted. “No fair. My turn. I wanna see.”

It shouldn’t have been possible for him to smirk and seem shy all at the same time, but Adam managed it. Like he knew exactly how good he looked—and he damn well should, considering how hard he must have worked for it—but like he was self-conscious about it anyway.

She hummed, running her hands over his pectorals, tracing the lines of tight abdominals with her fingers. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“You pass inspection.” She gave his side a teasing slap and pulled him down toward her mouth. As he kissed her, nice and wet with tongue, he cupped her curves, tweaking the barbell he seemed to like so much between his forefinger and his thumb. She laughed. “That is really doing it for you, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea.”

Actually, she had some, because she’d developed a brand-new kink in the time since he’d pulled off his shirt. As they kissed and kissed, she ran her palms over miles of perfect skin. Smooth muscles and shoulders, damp with sweat. A smattering of hair between his nipples and trailing down toward the good stuff.

She cupped his ass and pulled him against her, and he got over his preoccupation with her boobs faster than she’d thought he would, releasing her nipple to slam his palm into the mattress. Steadying himself as he ground his hips into hers.

“Oh,” he groaned into her mouth. He trailed a hand down her side, slipping fingertips into the waistband of her shorts. Finally. “Can I?”

“Carte blanche,” she assured him. “If there’s something I don’t like, I promise you’ll know about it.”

He snickered as he opened the button and pulled her zipper down. “Really? Considering how we met, I find that kind of hard to believe.”

“Sarcasm? Now?”

“What better time?”

And then she wasn’t laughing anymore as he dipped his fingers into her underwear.

Roommate or no, she had managed to squirrel away the occasional pocket of time to take care of herself, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Her body felt like it was on a knife’s edge from the first blunt nudge of his fingertips against her clit. Just that glancing touch was so slippery and slick, and she was gasping for it.

“That’s right,” he said, soft and low against her throat. His other hand plucked at her piercing, turning her into a shivering mess in the sultry air. “Though you might have to give me some directions here.”

“Want me to draw you a map?”

He chuckled, leaning in closer, and the rush of breath across the row of studs through her ear had another burst of electricity winding her tighter. “Think I know the general lay of the land.” He proved it, too, rubbing with just the right amount of pressure, wringing another cry out of her—too loud, but she couldn’t help it. “But feel free to point out any specifics.”

He shifted, changing the angle of his wrist so he could get a finger up inside, and oh, her own furtive efforts to take the edge off had never been this good. His thumb stroked her clit, and she sucked in a breath.

“Harder. Rub—”

Fuck, the boy took direction well.

“Yes,” she moaned. She clutched one hand in his hair, had the other on his arm, begging him, pleading with him through her touch to stay right there, just there… “Adam—”

Her voice broke off in a rasping curse as her body snapped, pleasure flowing through her in waves, an echoing void like delirium blanking her vision to everything. He nursed her through it, keeping close as she came back to earth. Shifting over to kiss her mouth, nice and soft and wet and slow.

“Jesus,” she panted, trying to catch her breath, releasing her hold on him to let her hands flop beside her head on the pillow. “Damn I needed that.”

Adam chuckled, nosing at her cheek and pressing gentle kisses to the spot beneath her ear. He was pretty sure he’d needed that, too. Sure, he was still hard enough to pound nails, and he hoped like hell there was going to be a second act. But it’d been so long since he’d had this. Not just sex, but a chance to be close to someone, to touch and be touched. He’d missed it.

That he was getting to do this with Jo only made it better.

God. That first day of the program, he’d tried to describe what it had been like to meet her. His fascination had been clear from the beginning, and Jared had seen it on his face. He’d asked Adam if she was cute, and Adam had frowned, told him she was more hot than pretty.

How had he been so wrong?

Lying here beside him, naked to the waist and with her shorts undone, she was beautiful. Her body was lean and wiry and yet still soft in all the right places. Strong. Small firm breasts that fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, and the metal. The ink.

It made him a little dizzy, looking at it all, made his cock throb. When he’d first seen the barbell through her nipple, he’d been ready to lose it against her thigh. He loved the bite of her lip ring against his tongue. He hadn’t had a chance yet to get a good look at her back, but he was going to, goddammit. The marks on her neck didn’t connect to anything on her front—all that flesh was clean and smooth. He could just imagine the tattoo that must run the length of her spine, though…

But it wasn’t even just that. Jo was always so careful, so coiled. She hid herself away. He didn’t have any illusions that she was showing him everything now, but there was an openness to her he’d never seen before. It felt like he was getting closer. Like the secret core of her lay but a few layers deeper. And he’d peel them all away. Coax her apart with his lips and hands, if she’d let him.

Slipping his fingers free from the soft, wet warmth inside her, he grinned. “Glad I could be of service.”

“No, seriously.” Her eyes were glazed in a way that filled him with pride. “You don’t understand. I have a roommate. Do you know how hard it is to get a minute to yourself when you have to share a room with someone?”

Actually, he did. His first two years of college, he’d taken an awful lot of long showers.

Then he stopped. Thought about what she’d really said and had to stifle a groan against her cheek. The vision of her touching herself, forcing herself to climax did it for him the same way her piercings did. She wouldn’t be easy on herself, either, would she? Wouldn’t take the time to enjoy it.

And then she made it even worse. “I mean it. My vibrator is so lonely. It’s crying in my underwear drawer right now.”

“Fuck.” It was almost a whimper.

She hesitated for a second. When she spoke again, it was with a flirty edge to her tone. “That really gets you going, huh?”

“You have no idea.” And this was stupid, but… “Don’t suppose you’d let me see that sometime, would you? You, uh, using that?”

She laughed, a free, wild sound. “Crap. You’re a dirty fucker underneath it all, aren’t you?”

“What can I say?” he panted. “I like what I like.” And he was learning all kinds of things about what that was right now.

Needing a second to recover from the image of her working a toy between her legs, he rolled over onto his back, the heated skin of his spine hitting a stretch of mercifully cool sheets. She came right along with him and fit herself to his side. And screw getting a minute to put himself together. It probably shouldn’t have surprised him, but she dove in without any preamble. Reached over to wrap her hand around his cock through his clothes, and he shuddered all over. The sudden, unexpected touch punched a sound of need out of his lungs.

“And what would you like me to do with this?” she asked, giving him a rough stroke.

“Anything you want to.” And he meant it, by God. She could just jerk him off, and he’d be happy. And if she wanted to give him more than that—wanted to let him feel her mouth or take him inside—it would be gravy.

He may have only slept with one woman before, but they’d been together long enough to have experimented some. Still, they’d settled into patterns over time. Missionary had been a favorite. He’d always had idle fantasies of a woman who would want to push the boundaries a little more, though. Someone who’d push him around. Show him what two bodies could do.

“Well, let’s see what we’re working with.” She smirked as she climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs. She worked his belt open and then his fly, and he was only too happy to help push the fabric down his hips. Grabbing the waistband of his boxer briefs, she tugged them out of the way. The air hit him, and he bit his tongue as she took him in hand. Warm slender fingers and brush of thumb over the slit. God, it had been so long since anyone had touched him like this. Looked at him like this. “Oh,” she said. “This is very nice.”

“Glad you like.” It came out shivery and strained.

“Very much so.” Starting up a slow rhythm, she leaned over to nip at his bottom lip, and he arched up into it, the kiss and the heat of her hand. “Just might have to take it for a ride.”

“Oh fuck, yes.”

That sounded so much better than a hand job.

Shifting her balance, she worked his clothes farther down his body. When she hit the middle of his thighs, she rose up onto her knees and sat back. He didn’t waste any time getting the rest of the way undressed, kicking off his sneakers and peeling his socks away as he rid himself of his underwear and shorts.

It took her a little longer. Her boots were blue today, nearly a match for the shock of dye in her hair, and unlacing them seemed to be a bitch. He moved to help, but she batted at him, undoing the knots with deft fingers. She finally got them gone and shoved her bottoms down, and then she was naked. Gorgeous. And urging him down, climbing on top of him. His slick tip nudged her thigh, and he choked on her name, wanting in, in, in right now.

“One second,” she muttered.

And oh thank fuck she was a smart one. Somehow, she’d ended up with a condom in her hand. As she tore the wrapper off and tossed it aside, he gave it a look. It wasn’t one of his.

“Shut up, I keep one on me, okay?”

“So much more than okay.” Kind of a turn-on actually.

But not as much of one as her grabbing at him and rolling the latex on, lifting the length of him and lining him up.

“Holy shit.” His whole spine arched as she sank down onto him. She was searing hot inside, smooth and tight around him, and he grabbed at her hips, blindly holding on to her while he fought for some kind of control over himself.

Hell if she was having any of that, though.

“Thought you said I could do whatever I wanted with it.” She braced herself over him, hands on his shoulders and spine wickedly arched as she started to move, sending tremors through every inch of his nerves.

“Not complaining,” he gritted out. There wasn’t any keeping her still, just the torturous pleasure of the way she gripped him. He slid his hands up and down her sides, cupped her ass and felt it bounce as she picked up the pace, taking him, riding him. “Oh, Christ.”

She had the balls to smile, wicked and sharp, and then she was leaning in, kissing his mouth. “Feels even better than I thought,” she said. “Nice and full.”

“You feel amazing.” The smooth skin beneath his palms, the brush of her breasts as the tips of them scraped his chest, the way the piercing dragged. And being inside her like this, having her over and surrounding him…


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