Southern Hotshot (North Carolina Highlands #2) - Jessica Peterson Page 0,82

belly, but she’s reaching for me, wrapping a hand around my cock and guiding it back to her center.

I smile at her impatience and hike her leg over my shoulder. Sinking inside her, I lean over her and play with her clit.

But it’s when I kiss her mouth that she comes.

Her pussy tightens, milking my dick. She breaks the kiss and closes her eyes, body arching into mine. She cries out, head falling back. Neck bared.

In my arms, she lets go.

I watch, heart in my throat, with my eyes on her face. The sinews of her neck pop against her skin, and I lean down to kiss them. She curls her hands into the muscles on my chest, nails biting into the skin, and the place between my blood and bones sings at the ferociousness of her desire.

She wants to be held so I hold her. I pump into her, my balls tightening. I keep my gaze on her face as she rides out her orgasm.

At last, Emma opens her eyes. They’re stormy, sated. Full.

She’s falling.

I kiss her, and I come, growling into her mouth as my entire being implodes. Pulse after pulse of pounding sweetness I can barely breathe through. But I keep my eyes open and watch her watching me lose my shit.

Emma strokes my face, tucking my hair away from my forehead. The shockwaves flatten me, and for several seconds, my heart stops working even as the pulses keep coming.

The orgasm goes on for forty-eight years.

When my heart finally starts beating again, it feels different inside my chest. Like it’s worked itself into a new shape. Or maybe just untied itself from its perpetual knot.

I let out a breath.

Emma keeps playing with my hair. It feels nice. She smiles.

I do too. A real smile. Because finally, fucking finally, I don’t feel lonely anymore.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Emma

I wake up naked, horny, and sore.

I am sore everywhere—between my legs and inside my chest. The first one isn’t new, but the second one is. My pulse skips a beat.

Oh, God, this feeling. It’s lovely and it’s terrifying, and in the darkness, my heart begins to pound.

I forgot myself with Samuel. I don’t always play the alpha, but my tendencies always show through.

Tonight, though? Tonight, I forgot about power dynamics. I forgot to play or that control even existed. Because the sex was so good, and I was so into it that I barely had time to catch my breath, much less plot out what my next move should be. And that sort of freedom—that sort of ease, of comfort—is something I’ve never felt before with another person.

I felt connected with Samuel during sex without being worried about keeping my guard up. I felt appreciated for who I was in the moment. Not who I could be or should be.

He adores me for who I am.

Against my better judgment, I’m falling in love with Samuel Beauregard.

Not only that, I told him as much on that bearskin rug in front of the fire. Granted, I didn’t say the words out loud. But he knew, and I knew, and now it’s not only my career in his hands, but my heart too.

I want him. I want to be with him.

I am so fucked it’s not even funny. Although having sex on a bearskin rug in front of a roaring fire is a cliché for a reason. It is awesome.

The worst slash best part? I’m pretty damn sure Samuel’s falling for me too. He didn’t say so either, not explicitly. But there was a tenderness in his lovemaking, an earnestness in his eyes, that I know he wanted me to notice. My insides do a happy dance at the idea that we are in love. My pussy clenches, and I can tell I’m already wet.

I start to panic.

Putting my hand on my forehead, I turn my head a little on the pillow. I can just make out the slumbering shadow of Samuel’s massive body. He breathes deeply, evenly, making my rapid, shallow breaths sound all the more distressed. Turning away, I reach for my phone on the nightstand. It’s 1:08 AM.

I pull up my chat app because I don’t know what else to do. Blue hasn’t sent me a message since I cancelled. I can’t tell if I’m relieved or bummed he hasn’t reached out since. I feel messy inside. Stirred up and swirling.

“Hey,” Samuel says in a sleep-roughed voice, making me jump.

I turn back to him. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness so I

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