A ball of tension grew in her stomach, expanded until she couldn’t breathe. “It’s too much,” she gasped.
“Obviously it’s not enough yet,” he said, pushing her harder, higher.
And when the wave broke over her, she thought she was done for. Thought it was going to drag her straight out to sea and leave her to die. She couldn’t catch her breath as pleasure assaulted her, going on and on, pounding through her like a merciless tide, battering her against the rocks, leaving her bruised, breathless.
And when it was over, Chase was looming over her, a condom in his hand.
She felt like a creature without its shell. Sensitive, completely unprotected. She wanted to hide from him, hide from this. But she couldn’t. How could she? The simple truth was, they still weren’t done. They had gone only part of the way. And if they didn’t finish this, she would always wonder. He would, too.
She imagined that—whether or not he admitted it—was why he had come here tonight in the first place.
They had opened the lid on Pandora’s box. And they couldn’t close it until they had examined every last dirty, filthy sin inside of it.
Even though she thought it might kill her, she knew that they couldn’t stop now.
He tore open the condom, positioning the protection over the blunt head of his arousal, rolling it down slowly.
She was transfixed. The sight of his own hand on his shaft so erotic she could hardly stand it.
She would pay good money to watch him shower, to watch his hands slide over all those gorgeous muscles. To watch him take himself in hand and lead himself to completion.
Oh, yeah. That was now her number one fantasy. Which was a problem, because it was a fantasy that would never be fulfilled.
Don’t think about that now. Don’t think about it ever.
He leaned in, kissing her, guiding her so that she was lying down on the couch, then he positioned himself between her legs, testing the entrance to her body before thrusting forward and filling her completely.
She closed her eyes tight, unable to handle the feeling of being invaded by him, both in body and in her soul.
“Look at me,” he said.
And once more, she was completely helpless to do anything other than obey.
She opened her eyes, her gaze meeting his, touching her down deep, where his hands never could.
And then he kissed her, soft, gentle. That kind of tenderness that had been missing from her life for so long. The kind that she had always been too embarrassed to ask for from anyone. Too embarrassed to show that she needed. That she desperately craved.
But Chase knew. Because he was Chase. He just knew.
He flexed his hips again, his pelvis butting up against her, sending a shower of sparks through her body. There was no way she was ready to come again. Except he kept moving, creating new sensations inside of her, deeper than what had come before.
It shouldn’t be possible for her to have another orgasm now. Not after the first one had stripped her so completely. But apparently tonight, nothing was impossible.
There was something different about this. About the two of them, working toward pleasure together. This wasn’t just her giving it out to him, or him reciprocating. This was something they were sharing.
She focused on pieces of him. The intensity in his eyes. The way the tendons in his neck stood out, evidence of the control he was exerting. She looked at his hand, up by her head, grabbing hold of one of the blankets she had been using, clinging tightly to it, as though it were his lifeline.
She looked down at his throat, at the pulse beating there.
All these close, intimate snapshots of this man that she knew better than anyone else.
Her chest felt heavy, swollen, and then it began to expand. She was convinced that she was going to break apart. All of these feelings, all of this pleasure. It was just too much. She couldn’t handle it.
“Please,” she begged. “Please.”
He released his grip on the blanket to grasp her hips, holding her steady as he pounded harder into her, as he pounded them both toward release. Toward salvation. It was too much. It needed to end. It was all she could think. She was begging him inside. End it, Chase. Please, end it.
Orgasm latched on to her throat like a wild beast, gripping her hard, violently, shaking her, pleasure exploding over her. Ugly. Completely and totally beyond control.
And then Chase let out a hoarse cry, freezing above her as he thrust inside her one last time, shivering, shaking as his own release took hold.
They were captive to it together. Powerless to do anything but wait until the savage beast was finished having its way. Until it was ready to move on.
And when it was over, only the two of them were left.
Just the two of them. Chase and Anna. No clothes, no shields.
She remembered the real reason she hadn’t had sex since that first time. It had nothing to do with how good or bad it had felt. Nothing to do with what a jerk she’d been after.
It had been this. This feeling of being unable to hide. But with the other guy, it had been easy to regroup. Easy to pretend she felt nothing.
She couldn’t do that with Chase. She was defenseless.
And for the first time in longer than she could remember, a tear slid down her cheek.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HE COULDN’T SWEAR creatively enough. He had just screwed his best friend’s brains out on a couch in her living room. On top of what might be the world’s friendliest, most nonsexual-looking blanket. With a Rodgers and Hammerstein musical on the TV in the background.
And then she had started crying. She had started crying, and she had wiggled out from beneath him and gone into the bathroom. Leaving him alone.
He had been sitting there by himself for a full thirty seconds attempting to reconcile all of these things.
And then he sprang into action.
He got up—still bare-ass naked—and walked down the hall. “Anna!” He didn’t hear anything. And so he pounded on the bathroom door. “Anna!”
“I’m in the bathroom, dumbass!” came the terse, watery reply.
“I know. That’s why I’m knocking on the bathroom door.”
“Go away.”
“No. I’m not going to go away. You need to talk to me.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
“Anna, dammit, did I hurt you?”
He got nothing in return but silence. Then he heard the lock rattle, and the door opened a crack. One green eye looked up at him, accusing. “No.”
“Why are you hiding?” He studied the eye more closely. It was red-rimmed. Definitely still weeping a little bit.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Well...you had me convinced that I... Anna, it happened really fast.”
“Not that fast. Believe me, I’ve had faster.”
“You wanted all of that...? I mean...”
She laughed. Actually laughed, pushing the door open a little bit wider. “After my emphatic... After all the yes-ing... You can honestly ask whether or not I wanted it?”
“I have a lot of sex,” he said. “I don’t see any point in beating around the bush there. And women have had a lot of reactions to the sex. But I can honestly say none of them have ever run away crying. So, yeah, I’m feeling a little bit shaky right now.”
“You’re shaky? I’m the one that’s crying.”
“And if I was alone in this...if I pushed you further than you wanted to go...I’m going to have to ask Sam to fire up the forge and prepare you a red-hot poker so you can have your way with me in an entirely different manner.”
“I wanted it, Chase.” Her tone was muted.
“Then why are you crying?”
“I’m not very experienced,” she said.
“Well, I mean, I know you don’t really hook up.”
“I’ve had sex once. One other time.”
He was stunned. Stunned enough that he was pretty sure Anna could have put her index finger on his chest, given a light push and knocked him flat on his ass. “Once.”
“Sure. You remember Corbin. And that whole fiasco. Where I kind of made fun of his...lack of...attributes and staying power in the hall at school. And...basically ensured that no guy would ever touch me ever again.”
“Right.” He remembered that.
“Well, I didn’t really get what the fuss was about.”
“But you... I mean, you’ve had...”
“Orgasms? Yes. Almost every day of my life. Because I am industrious, and red-blooded, and self-sufficient.”
He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the shot of heat that image sent straight through his blood. Anna. Touching herself.
What the hell was happening to him? Well, there was nothing happening. It had damn well happened. On the couch in Anna’s living room.
He could never look at her again without seeing her there, obeying his orders. Spreading her thighs for him so that he could get a good look at her. Yeah, he could never unsee that. Wasn’t sure if he wanted to. But where the hell did he go from here? Where did they go?
There were a lot of women he could have sex with, worry-free. Anna wasn’t one of them. She was a rare, precious thing in his life. Someone who knew him. Who knew all about how affected he and Sam had been by the loss of their parents.
Someone he never had to explain it to because she’d been there.
He didn’t like explaining all that. So the solution was keep the friends that were there when it happened, and make sure everyone else was temporary.