The Survivor - Cristin Harber Page 0,56
he’d missed a threat. “Why?”
“I have no idea.” She let the door open.
Hagan raked his gaze over her curves like he was a starving man. “You better figure that out before inviting me in.”
“I didn’t know what would happen.”
His erection strained against his pants. “Now you do?”
“I hope so.” She bit her lip, then reached for the top of his pants.
He covered her hand with a fist. “It’s your move. So, you’re in control.”
Now that he pointed that out? Maybe so. The blow job. The bathroom. But it wasn’t like she’d mapped out a plan. “I don’t know.”
He lifted their hands but didn’t let go. “Why don’t you tell me what you want, then we’ll work that out together.”
“Sounds like you have way more control than I do.”
“Not a chance.” He pressed her hand to his cock and sucked in a sharp breath. “What do you need, Amanda?”
“I need you.”
“You already have me.” He stroked his length with her hand. “What do you need?”
“Is that the same thing as what I want?” She wanted to use his body and trust in his soul. A primal hunger swept over her nerve endings.
“No.” He squeezed her hand. “Wants? Who the fuck cares?”
A greedy intensity swelled in her belly. There wasn’t anything about them that she could throw away. “But needs…?”
“That’s the good stuff.” His grin could’ve melted the sun. “What do you need?”
The truth was as obvious as her breathlessness. “To feel you inside me.”
Hagan took her mouth like she’d struck a match to kerosene and lifted her from the cold tile floor. He sucked her bottom lip and whisked her into their bed. “That’s what I need, too.”
Grinding and groping, she unfastened his pants, and he tore them off. Amanda knotted her fingers in his hair, pulling him on top of her again. She needed his skin, his kisses. Completely without control, she needed more from Hagan than she understood.
Their kisses weren’t easy. Their touches stoked their fire. They only paused for a condom, then she let him take command. Hagan teased and toyed with her until she begged for more. Then, as if he knew the moment she couldn’t survive her needy pain, he pressed into her body.
Amanda gasped. Eyes closed. Mind numb. She couldn’t get enough. He stretched into her slick tightness as she clawed his back.
Hagan flexed and kissed her. Their tongues dueled, coaxing her to ask for more. Her hips lifted. Hagan thrust, then thrust again. His name intertwined with desperate cries on her lips. Hagan drove her to the brink. She clenched around him and cried out as beautiful, painful pleasure blinded her with a climax.
“That’s what I needed,” he growled, slowing and stroking, riding her body. “To feel you cum like that.”
But she needed his orgasm more than hers. Amanda locked her legs around his hips and arched, opening herself for him to take. Together, they climbed closer and closer, fighting for an all-consuming avalanche.
His orgasm released with the cry of her name. Her pussy rippled again. Their hoarse voices mixed in an unrestrained storm until they collapsed, spent.
Carefully, he moved her to his side. She wasn’t ready to let go and buried her face into the pounding pulse in his neck. Then she realized that even when they left this bed, she wouldn’t lose him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
They ordered breakfast in bed and spent the morning under the covers, with a laptop perched on the nightstand next to half-finished plates of pastries and mugs of coffee. Amanda hadn’t completely slacked off of work. To be honest, she didn’t feel any guilt at all, though she waited for it to show up between bites of Lebanese French pastries and rounds of lovemaking like they were newlyweds.
Draped over Hagan’s chest, she wondered if this was balance. Work. Life. She wasn’t sure, because her life revolved around work. Hagan traced the indentation where her backside met her leg, unhurried and at ease. She noticed the distinct smoothness of the wedding band around his ring finger whenever his palm flattened on her ass.
Of all the things to notice, that one seemed impossibly trivial, yet profoundly intimate. It was as though she’d stumbled onto a secret of married couples. Wearing rings while undercover had never connected her to a partner until Hagan had made her step out from the routine of her life.
His hand stilled. “We should get up.”
“It’s your turn to be the voice of reason?” She repositioned her cheek on his pec and let her hand slide along the