Twisted Palace(69)
When he hesitates, I dig my nails into his shoulders and urge him on. “I’m okay. Everything’s good.”
“Might hurt for a second.”
He drives his hips forward.
The pain startles me even though I expected it. Reed stops abruptly, his eyes inspecting me carefully. Sweat beads on his forehead, and his arms shake as he holds himself still until my body accepts his sweet invasion.
We wait until the pain has abated, the empty feeling is gone, and all that’s left is a feeling of wondrous fullness. I lift my hips experimentally, and he groans.
“Feels so good,” he chokes out.
It does. It really does. Then he starts to move and it only gets better. There’s only slight pain when he withdraws, and I instinctively wrap my legs around him. We moan in unison. He moves even faster. The muscles of his back flex under my grip as he pushes into me, over and over again.
Reed whispers how much he loves me. I clutch him tight with both hands and gasp at each thrust and retreat.
He knows exactly what I need. Easing off me slightly, he brings his hand between my legs and presses down on the spot that aches for him. The second he does, I go up in flames.
Everything ceases to exist. Everything but Reed and the way he’s making me feel.
“God, Ella.” His rough voice barely penetrates the blissful glow that surrounds me.
One last thrust and he’s trembling on top of me, his lips pressed to mine, our bodies glued together.
It takes forever for my heart to beat at a regular pace again. By then, Reed has withdrawn and taken care of the condom, only to return and drag me against his chest. He’s breathing just as hard. When my limbs are finally strong enough to support my weight, I rise up on one elbow and smile at the look of utter satisfaction on his face.
“Was it okay?” I tease.
He snorts. “You need to erase the word okay from your vocab, baby. That was…”
“Perfect,” I fill in, my voice a happy whisper.
He holds me even tighter. “Perfect,” he agrees.
“Can we do it again?” I ask hopefully.
His laughter tickles my face. “Did I just create a monster?”
“I think so?”
We’re both laughing as he rolls over to kiss me again, but we don’t start anything, at least not yet. We just kiss for a bit and then snuggle together, while he plays with my hair and I stroke his chest.
“You were incredible,” he tells me.
“For a virgin, you mean?”
Reed snorts. “No. This was beyond incredible. I was talking about the routine. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
“It was fun,” I confess. “More fun than I thought it would be.”
“Do you think you’ll stay on the team? I mean, if you can stomach being around Jordan, then maybe you should. You looked so happy when you were out there.”
“I was happy.” I chew on my bottom lip. “Dancing is…it’s a thrill. It’s my favorite thing in the whole world. I always—” I stop, a bit embarrassed to reveal my silly hopes.
“You always what?” he pushes.
A breath slides out. “I always dreamed that maybe one day I could take actual classes. Get some real training.”
“There are arts colleges. You should apply,” Reed says immediately.
I rise up on an elbow again. “You really think so?”
“Hell yeah. You’re so freaking talented, Ella. You have a gift, and it would be a waste of that gift not to do anything with it.”
Warmth unfurls like ribbons in my chest. Other than my mom, nobody has ever told me I was talented.
“Maybe I will,” I say through the lump of emotion in my throat. Then I kiss him and ask, “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“What’s your dream?”
His features crease unhappily. “Right now? My dream is not going to jail.”
Just like that, the relaxed mood in the hotel room dissolves into tension. Crap. I shouldn’t have said anything. For this one perfect moment, though, I completely forgot about Brooke’s death and the police investigation and that Reed’s entire future is nothing but uncertain right now.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “I forgot about all that.”
“Yeah, me too.” He runs his big hand over my bare hip. “I guess…if I didn’t have these charges hanging over my head…I’d want to work for Atlantic Aviation.”
My jaw drops. “Seriously?”
A sheepish gleam fills in his eyes. “Don’t you dare tell my father,” he orders. “He’d probably throw a parade.”
I giggle. “It’s okay to please Callum, you know. As long as you’re pleasing yourself, too, then who cares?” I study his face. “You would really want to be involved in the family business, though?”