“That’s what I like to hear.” I reach into the drawer for another condom.
At the rate we’re going through them, I’m going to need a trip to the drugstore by noon.
Masey sighs. “I can’t remember ever feeling this happy with Thom.”
“Yeah?” I palm the little foil wrapper. “Let me see if I can make you even happier.”
In seconds, we’re protected, and I’m gripping her thighs, pulling them apart, and easing my way inside her again.
Fuck, it’s as good as the first time. No, better. She’s swollen and gripping me and wetter than hell, yes. But she’s more dialed into me. She seeks my mouth, insistent that I kiss her. She wraps her legs around me and moves with me, determined that I fill her. I never told her how much I like her digging into my shoulders, but she must have figured it out, because she gives me exactly what I crave.
I tear my mouth away to let out a groan, and she plants her lips near my ear, panting and sending shivers down my spine. She probably figured out how much I like that, too. Then she does the one thing designed to utterly undo me.
She talks to me.
“Every time I think you can’t get any deeper inside me, you do. I feel you…”
“I fucking feel you, too, honey.”
“Every bump and ridge scrapes—” She gasps, then sinks her teeth not into her lip for once but into my shoulder as her nails rake my back again. “I’m going to come. How?”
Already, that’s what she means. Because we’re fucking good together.
Because we belong together?
That isn’t logical, but I can’t find any other explanation why, whenever I get inside Masey, it’s even better than the last time. And why else would I feel joined to her in a way that’s not merely about our bodies? I need more. It’s a turn-on that I’ve taught her something about her pleasure and a thrill that she seems determined to mark me. But I love that being with her feels special.
What makes it even better? I’ve figured her out, too. I know what will send her over—and I don’t feel bad about using it mercilessly.
Sliding my hands under her ass, I tilt and lift her so my every stroke rubs friction over the nerve-rich spot inside her. Her eyes flare wide. After a couple of thrusts, she’s clinging and whimpering. A few more…and fuck, she’s coming apart for me again, clamping down and crying out. Her voice bounces off the ceiling. Her arms and legs hold tight, like she’ll never let me go. And when her stare fuses itself to me through the last of her shudders, she unleashes something wild inside me. I lunge into her, filling her depths, and let go.
The climax is so intense I can’t divert any energy to breathing. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision, and I groan so long and low my throat feels like I’ve gargled gravel.
Masey presses kisses to my shoulders, face, and mouth as I come down from the dark, euphoric high.
The second I catch my breath, I capture her mouth. I’ve never had a fucking orgasm like that. I’ve never cursed the limits of my body because, after a whole night of sex, I don’t feel remotely sated. Physically, I need a goddamn nap, a meal, and a shower before I can take her again. Realistically, I don’t have any assurance that she won’t simply hop up from my bed, stretch that lithe little body that drives me crazy, then head back to her dazzling vacation villa to spend another ten days without me. Or worse, test her chemistry with someone else.
She pulls free from my mouth with a tired sigh. “You have to let me sleep at some point, you know?”
I pull her closer. “Close your eyes.”
Masey does. Almost instantly, she drops off.
Normally I’d do the same. My body is exhausted. But my mind won’t rest.
How do I persuade her to stay longer and give us a real chance?
I’ve already thought of a dozen ideas and discarded each as colossally stupid when my phone buzzes on my nightstand. I jerk around and stare at the device.
Nia Cook, one of Harlow’s sisters-in-law. Why is she calling before five in the morning?
Something is wrong.
I jackknife up and snatch the device, giving a low hiss into it. “Nia?”
“I need your help. I didn’t know who else to call.” She sounds panicked.