His soft curse split the air. “Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart. I need more.”
She did and he pushed deeper, a fraction at a time, stopping to let her adjust as he went. Finally, he reached the barrier he’d been waiting for, felt her flinch beneath him. He brought his mouth to hers. “I’ve got to hurt you for just a second and it’ll be over.”
She nodded and closed her eyes. He claimed her fully, pushing through the barrier with a smooth, sure stroke that made her gasp and twist beneath him. He kissed her through it, holding himself completely, agonizingly still until her body relaxed around his and she sighed into his mouth.
“That’s it,” he encouraged huskily, “stay with me. You’re good now.”
He started to move, excruciatingly slowly although his rock-hard body was begging him to go faster. Their hands were still laced together, her eyes glued to his as he caressed her with his pulsing flesh, her muscles clenching him as he withdrew and entered her again and again until she was arching against him and taking him deep.
“You feel so good,” he told her, her incredibly tight body fitting him like a glove, making him swell even bigger. “Tell me how you like it. How it feels…”
Her eyes were glazed; she was just this side of incoherent. “So good,” she muttered. “So good. God, Jared, don’t stop—please…”
He released a hand to cup the sexy curve of her hip. To anchor her to him so he could put more power behind his thrusts, hit her in that place that gave a woman the deepest, most powerful orgasm.
“Talk to me,” he urged, dangerously close to the edge. “Tell me, Bailey.”
“Amazing. It feels amazing. Jared—I don’t think I can—”
He released her hands and reached between them, setting his thumb against the hard nub of her just above where their bodies were joined. Slowly, deliberately rotated it against her until her hips were writhing against his thumb. She threw her head back and came for him, her body clenching around his so fiercely, it took him only a few strokes to push himself into oblivion. His body exploded inside her, a hoarse cry tearing itself from his lungs as a shattering release swept over him.
It was minutes, long minutes later before his body stopped shaking. Before the chill in the air stole over him. Bailey shivered, her legs still wrapped around him, his flesh buried in hers. And he wondered how he could still be semi-hard after that.
He left the warmth of her body to push back the comforter and tuck her beneath it. Bailey protested, a tiny whimper that made him smile. “One second,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I am not nearly done with you yet.”
He found a bottle of water on the dresser and drank half of it down while he quite frankly tried to compose himself. Because that hadn’t been just sex. He felt open, raw, as if someone had stripped off his layers and left him exposed. And the instinct to roll over, to reclaim his power, pulsed through every cell.
Bailey lay there sultry and replete, platinum hair spread across the pillow, gaze tracking him as he drank. Oblivious to the storm in his head. Watching her there, strong, sexy, unforgettable, the thought crossed his mind that he could have her a million times and it would never be enough.
His hand tightened around the bottle. That was truly crazy talk. No matter how much he’d wanted a woman in the past, it had always faded. Soured. Relationships ended. People got bored. It was just the way it was.
He set the bottle down. Reached for her. Bailey studied his face as he took her in his arms. “You’re regretting this?”
He shook his head. Lied. “I want more. And I’m not sure you’re ready.”
She pulled his head down to hers and gave him a long, lingering kiss as her answer. It was all the encouragement he needed to stir to life. He curved his hand around her shoulder, slid it down to press against her shoulder blade and turned her over.
“Jared—” she murmured, a question in her voice.
“I want you this way,” he told her softly, pushing her hands apart and moving over her. It was testament to the trust they’d built that she stayed there, her breath picking up in rhythm as he nudged her knees apart, moved between them and pressed openmouthed kisses from the top of her spine to her waist. When she was fully relaxed and supple beneath him, he slid his hand between her legs and stroked her damp flesh.
“Okay?”
“Yes,” she moaned, shifting her legs farther apart, pushing up against his touch. It was all the invitation he needed to slide an arm beneath her, lift her and push inside her hot, welcoming flesh with a smooth thrust.
This time he could move slower, build it up, enjoy every centimeter of her undeniably sweet body. When she dug her fingers into the comforter and came with a guttural moan, as if the control he was exerting over her turned her on as much as it turned him on, it destroyed him completely. She was more than a match for him in every way.