do anything but tilt my head back and enjoy every second of it.
His mouth never leaves my skin as he finishes stripping me—and himself. But then he’s kissing his way down my body, his mouth sliding lower and lower until my already shaky knees threaten to give way.
I clutch at his shoulders and he laughs, moving lower still, pulling one leg over his shoulder and kissing me more intimately, his tongue stroking against me as though I were his only sustenance. And just like that, my body breaks like the ocean against the shore. Pleasure rolls over me—through me—in waves that sweep me under…and away.
I’m vaguely aware of what happens next—of Nick reaching toward a side table and grabbing a condom out of his wallet before pulling off his pants and boxer briefs, then sinking down on the sofa and pulling me over him.
“You can still change your mind,” he whispers against the sensitive skin behind my ear.
“I’m not changing anything,” I answer. Not here, when Nick is pressed hot and hard against me and not now, when I finally feel good. When I finally feel more like myself than I have in a very long time.
“Good.” I feel the upward curve of his lips against my skin. And then his hands are on my hips—soft and urgent and desperate.
I lift onto my knees, then lower myself slowly, relishing the way the heat and strength and power of him fill up parts of me I didn’t even know were empty before tonight—before this moment.
“I want to hear you,” Nick says, his voice harsh and breath coming way too fast. “Let me hear you.”
I can’t deny him—or myself. Not on this. For once, I don’t have to stay quiet while I come all by myself in the bed next to a snoring husband. I can moan and sigh and talk dirty and whatever the hell else I want.
So I do.
It feels amazing, just like everything else about this afternoon. And this man.
My fingers tangle in his hair.
My hips move against his.
My lips slide over his.
Electricity. Power. Need. They sweep through me all at once—sweep through us both—and take us up, up, up. Until I can’t think. Can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but feel.
I’m drowning in sensations, drowning in a need I’ve never felt before, and just when I’m certain I can’t take any more—that we can’t take any more—I shatter into a million tiny pieces.
Nick breaks with me, and it isn’t until long minutes later, when I’m finally able to remember my own name and how to do something more than tremble and cling, that I can’t help wondering how many of his pieces have gotten mixed up with mine.
And how I’m supposed to give them back.
Chapter Forty-Four
I wake up with a hand cupping my breast and a long, warm body pressed against my back.
I’d like to say it takes me a few seconds to remember where I am, but the truth is, I know where I am as soon as I drift into consciousness—maybe even before. I’m in Nick’s house, in Nick’s bed, and every single muscle in my body is aching just enough to remind me of what we spent most of the evening doing.
I moan a little—in horror, not pleasure—as images from last night flash through my brain at high speed.
Nick slamming into me against the wall as I dug my nails into his back and begged for more.
Nick dropping me down on the edge of his bed and then falling to his knees between my legs.
Nick turning me over while a third orgasm still had my knees shaking and plunging inside me until I screamed myself hoarse with pleasure.
Nick touching me, kissing me, fucking me, over and over and over again.
Nick throwing his head back as he came.
Nick smiling wickedly.
Nick.
Nick.
Nick.
He’s all I can see against the black backdrop of my closed lids. All I can feel wrapped around me in this warm, toasty bed. All I can smell or taste or hear as I try to get my galloping heart and rampaging imagination under control. What happens next? It’s hard to have a one-night stand with a guy who lives across the street!
I take a deep breath in an effort to tamp down the panic sliding around inside me, but it doesn’t work. Partly because I’m too freaked out and partly because Nick is waking up, his long, lean, hard body moving against me even as his fingers stroke and squeeze my nipple.
Heat that never really went