I sat atop him, sitting still for several seconds as my body adjusted to his size, my walls expanding to make room for him. Damn, he felt good. Just like that, without any movement—he felt made for me, as though his penis had been carved to fit my pussy and mine alone. I shuddered at the carnal thoughts that intensified the heavenly sensation of him inside me.
He shifted beneath me, his impatience evident. So I moved, riding him. Slowly at first, then more determined. My hands braced against his shoulders, pushing me off with the force I knew Hudson desired, the force I desired. It wasn’t long before his hands were wrapped around my ass, augmenting my movement. And then, he held me still as his hips thrust up and forward in a circular pattern, driving into me with long deliberate strokes.
“Do you always have to take over?” I asked, breathless. Not that I minded. I enjoyed being on the other end of his control.
His lip curled at the edge. “If you want us both to come, then yes.”
I laughed, the action causing him to twitch inside me, bringing me to the brink. When I could speak again, I asked, “And who is it that wouldn’t come if I stayed in control?”
“You.” His fingers tightened at my hips and, as if to prove his point, he pushed deeper into me, brushing against a spot—that spot, the one that always did it for me, the one that only he could find and that he found each and every time.
My orgasm came suddenly, taking me by surprise. I gasped, digging my fingernails into his skin as I rode the wave of ecstasy that passed through my every nerve, shooting down my limbs and clouding my vision.
Hudson’s tempo didn’t abate as I crumpled on top of him. He continued to thrust towards his own climax, driving toward that intangible goalpost. And then he was crossing the finish line, grinding against my clit as he spilled into me, causing another shudder from my already limp body.
While he settled, he kissed along my neck, along my jawline, finally making it to my lips where he sweetly lingered, adoring me with his mouth until our heart rates returned to a more normal pace.
Then he pulled away and met my eyes. His brow furrowed. “Alayna.” Hudson cradled my face. “What is it, precious?”
It took me a beat to understand his question. Then I realized that tears were leaking down my face. And then they were more than tears. Uncontrollable sobs broke through me as though a great well of grief had been released.
Embarrassed and unable to explain my outburst, I pushed away and climbed out of the tub.
“Alayna, talk to me.” He was behind me, wrapping a towel around my body as he dripped onto the floor.
I shook my head and ran to the bedroom.
Hudson followed. He grabbed my upper arms and turned me toward him. “Talk to me. What is it?”
My body heaved with the anguish. It wasn’t a new pain, but one that had been with me for the better part of a week. I just hadn’t fully expressed it yet—not to Hudson, not to myself.
“You. Really. Hurt me,” I managed. The words were broken and hard to get out between sobs.
“Just now?”
“No.” I swallowed and tried to calm myself enough to speak. “You really hurt me. With Celia. When you believed her. Instead of me.” The pain was so raw, so fresh. Even though he’d made amends and we were together, the remnants of that betrayal still clung to me. I’d tried to move on before the scar had formed, and now, unexpectedly, the wound reopened.
“Oh, Alayna.” He pulled me into his chest. “Tell me. Tell me all of it. I need to hear it.”
“It hurts, Hudson. It hurts so much.” I took a ragged breath. “Even though you’re here. Now. And we’re together. There’s a hole.” My sentences were short and broken. “A deep, deep hole.”
His body tensed around me and I felt the degree to which he shared my grief. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. If I could take it back, if I could change how I reacted…I would have chosen differently.”
“I know. I do. But you didn’t choose differently. And you can’t take that back.” My voice strengthened as the ache inside surfaced. Like I was throwing up. Once it started, there was no stopping, and the process was uncomfortable and suffocating.
I pulled away from him, still in his arms, but no longer buried in him. “You can never take that back.”
“No. I can’t.” He pushed my wet hair off my shoulders.
“And that changes things. It changes me.”
He paused, worry etching his face. “How?”
“It makes me vulnerable. Exposed.” I suddenly became aware that he was wearing nothing. It was fitting. Because, even though I was wrapped in a towel, I’d never been more naked in front of him. “And you know now. That you can hurt me.” I choked as my tears returned. “You can hurt me real bad.”