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Page 63
Page 63
The push of his middle finger inside makes me gasp, and a storm of ecstasy takes hold of my every breath. My concentration, my whole attention, leaps from my hands sliding on his skin, to his finger moving inside me, back to my fingers on his chest, then to my mouth trailing down his neck, and to his mouth nibbling at my ear, back to what his fingers are doing, my body rocking and combusting.
I’m lost and he’s all there is. All there is.
His chest jerks with his breaths that fall over my face. “You have no idea how much I want you. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of this. Done this in my head with you,” he drawls.
His hand holds me down by my hips as he continues expertly, lovingly fingering me, the sensation of fullness making me moan as he lowers his head to one of my breasts, up in the air in offering. He sucks, and then, against my skin, thrusting a second time, slower and deeper, “Regina…you’re so perfect, Regina.”
I could not possibly be wetter.
I pull his head down and latch on with my lips. I feel his smooth, warm skin beneath my fingertips. His mouth more voracious over mine. Tahoe pulling me closer. Tahoe’s weight on me. My mouth on his jaw, his neck, my fingers on his hard, muscled chest.
His lips sucking my earlobe. Him whispering that he craves me wet, that he craves me “this wet,” and his fingers easing inside me, then outside me, stroking my folds. Entering me again. I’m gasping against his throat as he inserts two fingers, then three.
One thing I’m quickly learning about Tahoe Roth is that he is a little bit of a biter.
He bites everything before tasting it.
Bite…tug…release…lick…full-on kiss. All on the same spot. In so many spots.
It’s madness-inducing.
I bite his lip and pull for a second, doing the same.
A grin touches his lips as his eyes catch fire. “Naughty girl,” he kisses me, “you sweet naughty girl.”
He pulls out a foil packet and tears it open with his teeth. He looks down at me for an intense few seconds as he slips it on.
I can’t catch my breath or stop my racing heart as he grabs his erection in one hand and holds my body pinned in bed with the other wrapped around my hip.
We pause for a moment. It’s that one moment where I realize—this is it. This is it, this is it. And we both want it too much. Have been waiting too long.
He enters slowly, taking his time—his exquisite time—for me to adjust to him.
I think he is savoring the feeling of me, of my body hugging him, just as I am savoring the feeling of him, driving inch by inch inside me.
I am no longer empty. I’m no longer lonely. I’m so full I could burst. I’m so happy I want to cry. I’m so aroused I’m buzzing head to toe and afraid that if he moves just one inch deeper, I’m going to come.
He eases back as if he senses how close I am to exploding. And then he slowly drives back inside, entwining my fingers with his. My breaths jerk fast as he fills me, hard and steady. He whispers as he looks at me, “I love doing this with you, nearly as much as I love you.”
He drives forward completely. I thrash and move my hips, desperate for more. He throws his head back and utters, as if he can’t believe this is real, “Fuck me,” in the hottest way I’ve ever heard any man curse before. It’s that thick drawl.
He pins me in place and drives into me again as if he wants to bury himself in me and possess me whole.
The noises he makes drive me crazy, his kisses obsess me. The warmth of his breath on my cheek arouses me even more as he holds my head to kiss me. His kiss is nearly painful, it is so raw, and he slows it down until it’s unbearably worshipful and tender.
I soak it all up. The feel of him. The increase in his speed. Faster and faster. I’m holding his jaw and pulling him to me, closer and closer.
The sound of me, crying out.
His heavy breaths, as fast as mine.
And the moment I lift my eyes to find him staring straight into mine with that dimple peeking out and I know that he’s loving this moment as much as I am…
My nails sink into his back, my face in his throat, and suddenly I’m not smiling anymore.
I’m taken to a shattering climax, one where nothing else exists but this feeling of belonging.
Convulsing, I’m twisting and shaking, and crying a little it’s so intense, the way I come in his arms. I hear the sound of his breath jerking in his chest and I feel him tighten his body as he comes. He ducks and sucks my nipples, then my lips, his fingers traveling up the grooves of my ribs as he croons that I’m so hot…so very hot…
We’re a tangle of delicious limbs when we come back to reality. He brushes my hair behind my shoulder, exposing my neck so he can gently kiss my throat.
The sound of silence settles in the room.
I lie naked and sated, his arms holding me.
He shifts me in a way that he’s still inside me, and we lie quietly together.
He cups my cheek and forces me to look at him.
One year ago, all I wanted was to be his—a thousand moments later, I still do.
Millions of smiles in the world, and his is the one I love most. The one he’s wearing now is particularly cocky. “What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
I groan and nudge him. He nudges me back and pulls me tighter into his arms, laughing as he bites my earlobe.
NEXT MORNING
I wake up in a big bed with white cotton sheets when I hear the sound of the shower being turned off. Minutes later, it smells like coffee. Vanilla?? Coffee. Definitely some vanilla.
I moan and roll over to find the sun streaming in through the windows.