Dream Chaser (Dream Team #2) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,55

little.

I cared less when my panties were drifting down my legs, because he’d pushed them down.

Nope.

I didn’t care.

Because with that, I knew where this was going.

I also wanted to go there.

Nope again.

I couldn’t wait to get there.

And I hoped to God we got there fast.

Which meant I rejoiced when he lifted me by my ass and put me on the edge of the sink.

I knew better than to pull his cock out as a demand for him to give me what right then I needed really, really badly. And I knew this, what with how he was, and how I was.

So I communicated that by digging my nails in his ass.

He lifted his head, caught my eyes, his were glinting, near-black with dilatation and turned on, my womb contracted at the sight, and he grunted, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I breathed in answer.

“Baby,” he growled.

I got that too.

It was a question.

One I answered swiftly.

“I’m on the pill. Clean. You?”

“Yeah.”

His hand was between us only a second before I felt him searching with the head of his cock.

He caught and then he grabbed my wrists, lifted my arms, transferred them into one of his hands, leaned into me and pressed them against the mirror behind me.

He did this as he slid inside.

Oh…

Yeah.

I closed my eyes and my head fell back, hitting glass.

God, he felt good. Perfect fit. That body so close. So warm. His smell. His hold on me.

His free arm came around me and it was then I realized he wasn’t moving.

I opened my eyes and righted my head.

“Boone…”

I trailed off because of the look on his face.

Suffice it to say, I’d never forget the look on his unbelievably beautiful face.

It told me, moments earlier, I’d said the right thing.

The way right thing.

And it meant a lot to him.

A whole lot.

At the same time, where he was now, connected to me, meant the same.

“Fucked up, not puttin’ in the work to win you,” he said. “Fucked up again, seein’ another woman when I should have been with you. Fucked up with this, because I didn’t want our first time to be on a bathroom sink. But bottom line, all that, and you like you look right now, like you feel right now, what you just said to me, I’ll take it too.”

I arched my back to press my front into his chest.

He dipped his head and kissed me.

It might have begun fast, but he then straight-up made love to me.

On my bathroom sink.

Slow, sweet, lots of kissing, lots of eye contact, lots of him touching me and doing it flat-out reverently.

Faster, deeper, but sweeter, and more kissing, eye contact, and now gripping (him, doing this to my ass with one hand as well as his fingers of the other around my wrists).

And then I knew where he was at by the look in his eyes even before his hand moved from my behind and went between us.

With a thumb to my clit, he wanted me to get there.

So I gave over to him and he took me there.

Oh yeah.

I went there with a gasp and a full-on shiver, and once I got to the place he took me, I never wanted to leave.

He watched my orgasm.

Then he took himself there.

I watched his.

Wow.

I’d always thought he was beautiful.

But that?

That was beautiful.

I’d had my fair share of experience with sex, but I could not say I’d ever done it on a bathroom sink.

And I would never in a million years suspect that doing it there would be the most profound and intimate experience I’d ever had in my life in a way this moment very likely could be just that for the rest of it.

But that was what happened for Boone and me.

He was kissing me gently and gliding in and out before he slid in, ended the kissing and caught my slowly opening eyes.

I liked all this.

Including the fact he held me where I was, didn’t release my wrists, even when we got to the gentle after parts.

“Choice taste in music, sweetheart,” he murmured.

“Wh-what?” I forced out.

“‘You’ve Got the Love.’ Never gave any time to considering what song would cover my ice-cream-cones-in-the-park montage. But that one’s spot on.”

Was he still inside me after our first time and…

Teasing me?

“Do you ice skate?” I asked.

“Pennsylvania is no Minnesota, but we were no slouches in the hockey stakes.”

“Hockey?”

“Got my ass kicked a lot when I was a scrawny fucker. So when I filled out and got back on the ice, felt damn good knocking those guys on