Sensing my capitulation, his finger slid through my folds, testing and teasing. His free hand cupped one breast then the other. I couldn’t look away from his face. His pupils were dilated with a golden rim that gleamed in the dim light. He flicked his tongue along his top lip like he wanted nothing more than to devour me whole.
A short, needy moan erupted from my lips, and any tiny lingering reservations cartwheeling through my mind came to an abrupt cease-fire. My hands moved up and down the muscles of his arms, and they rippled, bulged, and flexed like a sculpture that had come to life. I yanked on the roots of his coarse, wavy hair, not too hard, but not with much caution either. His lips smashed against mine for another kiss that seemed to last forever, yet not long enough to satisfy my simmering lust.
I tasted the mint of his toothpaste. I tasted desire. Best of all, I tasted him.
His talented fingers forged ahead, driving me crazy with every stroke and slide and flick. Tension magnified inside of me at a disquieting velocity. My limbs tingled. My chest heaved. My lips parted.
“I’m really close,” I muttered with disbelief, mostly to myself.
He pulled his hand away. “I know.”
“No. Don’t stop,” I whined in a way that would have made me cringe under normal circumstances. Not now. Not when I was five seconds from getting what I wanted.
“Jesus, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Nothing could make me stop. I’ve been thinking about this round-the-clock since the minute you walked into my club.”
He roughly nudged my knees apart and wedged his pelvis between my trembling legs. His hands clamped around my hips, pressing his thick erection against my sex in an unspoken petition for entry. A current of electricity circulated though me, raising the fine hairs on my forearms, and I shuddered.
Gripping his shaft in one hand, he moved inside me an inch. I blinked in shock.
Oh my God. No words.
One more inch and our synchronized groans meshed into one. One more inch, and I stopped cold.
“Wait.” My hands scraped down the sculpted planes of his chest. “Condom.”
His gaze raked up my body until it collided with mine. His mouth ticked up at the corners. Without a word, he leaned over, grabbed a foil square from the top drawer of his nightstand, ripped it open with his teeth, and rolled it down his erection.
His body blanketed mine again, and he brushed a kiss across my lips. “Better?”
“Yeah. Now fuck me before I change my mind.” My voice came out throaty and unrecognizable, not only in tone, but in every way possible. Those words didn’t belong to me. I had never uttered anything remotely similar in my entire life.
He threw his head back and laughed, and his corded neck muscles stood out in sharp relief. “You’re a bossy thing.”
He guided himself inside of me in one breath-robbing thrust. He paused for a second. Then, moved in and out in experimental jousts that ignited little spasms of mind-numbing bliss deep inside my core.
I rolled my hips.
“Shit,” he said, his voice thick and shaky with desire. “If you keep doing that, this won’t last long.”
“I don’t care.” I rolled my hips again, and this time, I dug my nails into his back, hunting for the release that already shimmered exasperatingly close.
Like a mind reader, he anchored his hands around my hips, positioning me so that each flex of his pelvis rubbed me in a way that had me mumbling senseless words and winding me tighter and tighter. Every molecule inside of me reached for him. Craved him. Within mere minutes, an orgasm split through me, my inner muscles clamping down in frenzied pleasure.
A scream tumbled from my swollen lips. My heart pounded like I had danced for hours, and the spasms kept going and going like I had all the time in the world.
Gian thrust hard and fast. With the bed frame creaking and the headboard tapping against the wall, he lost control. His lips were pulled back over his teeth, and damp strands of his hair clung to his forehead. His eyelids dropped to half-mast, and he swelled inside of me. A whisper of a groan split his lips, and he exploded.
When the haze of lust faded, he rolled off me. I pried open my eyelids and looked at him. He was stretched out on the bed with one arm propped behind his head, his chest heaving and his brow dotted with perspiration. He caught my gaze and slotted his fingers through mine without saying anything.
Lying there next to him, sated and content for the first time since I hurt my ankle was unreal. I felt like I had stepped into an alternative universe where black was white and white was black. While none of our problems were resolved and the animosity between us would unquestionably return, for right now, in this silver of time, my heart was free, and my head was clear. Amusement still toying with the corners of my lips, my eyes drifted closed, and my heart rate evened out.