There was no time to recover. He rolled, and I was on top of him instantly, my legs straddling him, my still-throbbing, damp core pressing against his defined abs.
“Take what you want, Eva,” Trace rasped. “But for Christ’s sake, do it now.”
“I want you.” My breath was still moving in and out of my lungs at a rapid pace. It wasn’t because I hadn’t recovered, but because I was still so damn needy, so desperate for Trace to be inside me.
“Then do it. I can’t wait much longer.”
The fierce desire in his voice spurred me on. I had no idea how to do this, but I was going to find a way. “I’m not sure what I’m doing.” Not that I wanted to remind him that I was pretty inexperienced, but I’d need his cooperation.
His hands grasped my ass roughly. “Guide me inside you.”
I did what he asked, one hand wrapped around his enormous member as I guided it to my sheath. I let go as he took control, moving me with the pressure he had on my rear end, then forcing me downward.
The stretching sensation was sublime as I slowly lowered my body with his help, gasping as he became totally seated inside me. “Yes.” I threw my head back and rolled my hips.
“Now fuck me,” Trace said in a graveled voice.
I started to move, him guiding me with his tight grip on my ass.
“Oh, God.” I rotated my hips, testing the feel of him in this position, reveling in the pleasure I felt just having our bodies connected.
I melted into him as he held me in place and began to thrust up and into me over and over again.
Each stroke of his hips claimed me, consumed me until I could think of nothing else except slaking our desires. I lowered my upper body, letting my skin slide against his. My nipples were hard and tight, and I drew in a sharp breath as they were almost painfully stimulated as they slid along his damp chest.
I put my hands on either side of his head, looking down at him as he continued a punishing rhythm in and out of my channel. The expression on his face looked strained. I couldn’t make out his eyes, but I knew that if it were possible, I’d see them flashing fire.
“You’re so damn tight,” he growled.
Considering I was almost a virgin, that was highly possible.
“Am I hurting you?” His query was sharp and tortured.
“No. You feel perfect.”
I lowered my head and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips. It was erotic, sensual, every movement we made done with carnal heat.
His hand plunged between us, and his fingers strummed over my clit, making me start into another orgasm that I thought might kill me. “I can’t. Not again.”
“Again,” he insisted, groaning as my squeezing sheath started to tighten on his cock. “Fuck. Eva!”
We tumbled over the edge together, our bodies still connected as he released himself inside me.
“So damn good,” Trace spat out gutturally.
My heart and body echoed his words, but I couldn’t speak. It didn’t matter that Trace was literally tutoring me, and I didn’t care if the technique wasn’t perfect. All that was really important was the overflowing pleasure that spilled from my body and found its way to my heart.
I rested my weight on Trace, both of us gulping for air. In my heart, I knew the moment I got into his bed that I’d sealed my fate, but my attraction to Trace was too fierce, too damn strong for me to resist. I wanted to believe I could just live for today, but I knew tomorrow would come, and I’d pay for the things we’d done with a broken heart.
I was falling in love with Trace Walker.
Maybe I’d never been in love, but I knew what it wasn’t, and the way I felt about him was different from anything I’d ever experienced before. He was like crack, an addiction that I couldn’t turn away from if I could just get my hands on him again.
I let my head rest against his damp shoulder, my body riding with his labored breathing. “I should move.” He could breathe a lot better if I’d just move my ass.
His arms tightened around me, his hold like a steel vise. “Don’t. You’re exactly where I need you to be right now,” he insisted huskily.
I sighed and relaxed into his body, feeling safer than I’d ever felt in my entire life. Trace had become the one stable thing in my life, a man who cared. Not that I’d convinced myself that he loved me, but his possessive hold on my body screamed that he wanted me, cared about me. I held tightly to that, trying not to think about the day I’d have to walk away from him.
His lips skimmed my forehead lightly. “Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked sleepily.
“I’m good,” I reassured him. And I wasn’t lying. I felt happy, content. As long as I didn’t think about the future…