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Was it just the sense of familiarity in a chaotic situation?

I know the answer before my brain can really formulate the question.

I care about this man, and after he didn’t back away from my kiss earlier, I discovered that he cares about me on some level. The heat in that kiss was something I never felt before, and it wasn’t a placating kiss, one he felt obligated to return because of my current situation. The man wanted me, yet he still held back. He could’ve had me. I all but offered myself to him, and he kept his distance.

I’ve never found words so difficult before in my life, and I think it has more to do with being unsure of the answer whereas I usually know what someone is going to say before I open my mouth to ask.

I can’t keep living life like this. Today made me realize that I need to take chances because it could all be gone in the blink of an eye.

Maybe it’s the way I feel for him or maybe because I’ve had my eyes opened and I’m realizing I just want to live life, but I don’t let fear hold me back when I push against his chest to look down at him.

He’s not asleep, but I could tell by his breathing when I woke up that he wasn’t.

“Hey,” he whispers as his fingers push my hair off my face. “Feeling better?”

The lids of his eyes are lowered, and I can tell he’s struggling not to look down at my mouth. My body heats with need, but I still find myself getting shy.

I’m not a virgin, but all other sexual situations I’ve been in, the man has always been the one to make the first move. I know he wants me, but he seems reluctant to express that.

“Better,” I answer as I press my face back into his shoulder.

Maybe words aren’t what we need right now.

My hand shakes as my fingers start to roam over his chest. The rhythm of his breath changes as they drift lower, and I smile against his skin when his stomach muscles ripple under my touch.

“That feels so good,” he says, his words a rumble under my ear as his arm around my back squeezes me a little tighter.

My soft touch grows bolder as I trace a circle around his navel. He pulls in a sharp intake of air when I tease the top of his sweats. The gray fabric does nothing to hide his arousal, and if I ever doubted his attraction to me, I don’t now.

I hold my breath, biting my lower lip between my teeth as I outline his length as far down as my short arm can reach.

I squeal, a smile wide on my face when one second, I’m teasing him and the next, I’m flat on my back, hands pinned beside my head as he settles over me.

“Do you know what door you’re opening?”

I nod, hoping we’re on the same page.

His mouth finds mine on a growl, and this kiss is nothing like the one we shared in the bathroom earlier. He’s not as calm, not as controlled, and I freaking love it. I love that he is losing himself right now because I want nothing short of the real him.

My hips roll, but my movement is limited by the pressure of his body. We groan at the same time, the contact just enough to drive both of us crazy.

“I want to be inside of you,” he whispers against my mouth.

I nod enthusiastically. “I want that, too.”

“We can’t,” he says as he pulls his body back from mine.

Like I’ve been hit in the face with freezing rain, my eyes instantly begin to water. I have to look away from him, wiggling my hands so he knows to back off.

“No,” he says, his nose tracing down the side of my face. “Don’t think for a second I’m putting an end to this because I want to. Do you have condoms?”

I shake my head.

“I don’t either. Can I fuck you raw?”

I must take too long to answer because his head pulls back, a look of pleading on his face. God, I’ve never wanted to take a risk so bad in my life.

“I’m not on birth control,” I confess.

His hips jolt as if the news turns him on even more. Oh God, is he one of those guys that’s going to talk about coming inside of me and getting me pregnant? Would I be able to tell him now isn’t the best time in my life to do something wild like that? Why do I want to know what he feels like when he orgasms deep inside of me?

I blame the trauma from the day for these racing thoughts.

“Wren,” he snaps.

“What?”

“Wren has condoms.”

“Whitney isn’t on birth control?”


Tags: Marie James Blackbridge Security Erotic