body and the pleasure it gave him like a fine wine.
The only thing better than the feel of him inside of me, gliding along my wetness, pressing out against my walls all hot velvet and steel length, were the sounds he made. The appreciative moans, the sighing little groans, the whispered compliments. I lived for them, and felt so special, so cherished in this moment, I was desperate for it to never fucking end.
Chapter Nineteen
Maverick…
“Mm, yeah baby. So good…” I praised. After the second orgasm had left her devastated, had drained the fight and the anger right out of her, I’d flipped the script. I quit fucking her, which was nice – don’t get me wrong, but I wanted in. I wanted past those shifting concrete maze-like walls and I wanted to touch her soul deep. Feed her, nourish her spirit. So, I both took what I wanted and gave her my all making love to her for the first time, I think, ever for her.
She lay limp and languid across the kitchen island in front of me and I took my time, stroking in and out of her, holding her firmly, but gently, kneading her with my hands through the leather of her jacket. I stroked deep and sure, listening to her lilting moans, her panting breath, and I don’t think I’d ever felt so virile. I don’t think I’d ever felt like more of a man than when I made her like this where she forgot her past, lost herself in the sensation of me, and let her burdens go.
When we were like this, she let me handle things and that made everything alright in my book, at least for the time being. I had big shoulders. I could be her Atlas. I wanted to be her Atlas. It was time someone else carried the world on their shoulders for her. I would be happy to be that man, she just had to trust me; had to let me in.
I took my time with her, let myself relax and enjoy this, but all good things must come to an end and what a spectacular end it was. I came in this weird dichotomy of gentle, but also so hard I saw stars. Grunting, barely pulling out in time – which was bullshit, and I knew it. I needed to take much more care than I was – but fuck she felt so damn good skin on skin.
I don’t care what anybody said. The feel of her body wrapped tight around mine just wasn’t the same through the barrier, however thin, that was a condom.
I slipped out of her, coming in a hot wash all over her ass, and fuck that was hot. I didn’t care about the mess. She’d already squirted all over me, herself, and the floor and fuck if that hadn’t been hotter than hell, too.
I curved my arms beneath her and bowed over her back, pressing myself against her, sandwiching her between me and the cool stone of the countertop. I lay atop her body and closed my eyes, willing my breath to still, feeling my heartbeat sync up with hers.
It was an intimacy I wasn’t prone to allow myself with anyone but her.
“You okay?” I asked gently when we’d been there a time, breaths returned, quiet and still.
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured in a satisfied purr.
I smiled, smugly satisfied and stood, bringing her with me saying softly, “Up you go. Let’s get cleaned up and make our way to the bedroom.”
I wanted us nude, cleaned up, and comfortably reclined in my bed. I made short work of getting us both undressed right there in the kitchen. Sliding open the slatted doors concealing the washer and dryer and leaving things in a pile in front of the machines to sort and get washed in the morning.
Fuck the bags. More than half the shit in them needed sorted and washed too, and they could wait.
I guided her from behind, arms around her waist, my chest pressed to her back in an awkward gait through the house to the bathroom and drew us a bath. Shower would have been faster, sure, but I wanted to soak some of the aches from the long trip spent too long in the same position.
When we were settled, her in front of me, music playing lightly, her body lax against mine, I felt a contentment I didn’t even know could exist.
It was magical. The world fallen away until she and I were the