Feisty Red (Three Chicks Brewery #2) - Stacey Kennedy Page 0,47

strokes of his tongue heightening her pleasure, turning it into something else entirely. His fingers pumped now, his mouth sucking and flicking, and she moaned and wiggled into the pleasure, kept in place only by his arm pinning her. Building and building, until all that pleasure stormed in, taking her far away from there.

She vaguely remembered him flipping her onto her knees that barely supported her before she felt the latex between them. But then she became lost as he entered her and moved slowly at first. He pressed against her back, sending her bottom into the air. His dominating fingers gripped her hips, and she pushed back against him. She felt all of him and knew he felt all of her too. Soon, he began rocking into her. Hard. Fast. He gave no misunderstanding that he was wild for her. As he pounded into her, she hung on for the ride. And it was a great fucking ride.

His hands were everywhere, stroking, seducing, commanding her. Somewhere in the pleasure, a new sensation rose, one she grabbed onto and never wanted to let go. Here, in the strength of his arms, she let go. Completely. His strength became all-consuming, and she melted into his addictive pleasure.

Then he went even harder. Skin slapping rhythmically against skin. The scent of their sex filling her senses. It became too much—so good she couldn’t hold onto it anymore.

She came first, with her scream muffled in the pillow and her toes curled from the pleasure, and he followed behind with a strained groan. They fell apart together, tangled into each other, and she settled into the crook of his shoulder, both of them breathless and sweaty. She shut her eyes and let her mind relax, wondering if she could bottle up a moment and keep it forever. Because if she could, she would pick this moment, this quietness sliding over her. This peace and happiness.

Sullivan finally broke the silence. “I could get used to this.”

“Cuddling?” Clara asked with a laugh.

“Yes,” he said, seriously, stroking his fingers through her hair.

She leaned up to look at him, finding his eyes closed, a peaceful expression on his face. “You haven’t cuddled in a while?”

He peeked open an eye and gave a soft smile. “No, not like this.”

Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest, and she smiled in return. “Well, you’re not alone there. I can’t remember the last time I cuddled with anyone.” Yeah, she could. It had happened seven years ago, with him.

He continued to stroke her hair. “You were never serious with anyone after me?”

“No,” she answered before she wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have.

His reply came just as quickly, settling her worries. “Me neither.”

The loaded statement hung in the air between them, and Clara felt his arm tightening around her. “It’s not like I didn’t want to find anything serious,” she explained. “I just didn’t have the time for it.”

His hand froze. “Was there anyone at all?”

“Of course, just nothing serious. I had my fun when I could, but kept things casual. Just made things easier where it came to Mason. What about you? Were the tabloids always wrong about your love life?”

“In that regard, they were always right,” he muttered sleepily. “And like I told you before, for me, women were a distraction, an escape. I never made any promises.”

A long moment passed between them, a thousand unsaid things spiraling in the air between them. Until one thought stood out that she couldn’t push away. “Do you think that’s weird?” Clara asked, putting a voice to her worries. “That neither of us really moved on?”

“No.” He slid over her until he hovered above her, his damp hair curtaining his face. “And you know why?”

She became lost in his steady gaze as she slid her hands over his strong shoulders, down his flexed biceps, feeling him shiver under her touch. “Why?”

He dropped his mouth to hers. “Because we weren’t done yet.”

“No, I guess we weren’t,” she whispered against his lips, and then she let him claim her again.

12

Two weeks went in a blur of magic and possibilities, and Clara knew with each passing day that she was letting herself fall deeper for Sullivan. Everything was perfect, and during the time she had with him, she felt like she finally had the family she wanted, with Sullivan in their lives. He’d done the work, on himself and for her and Mason. She woke up this morning, and like she did every other day, she got