I felt the moan that vibrated in his throat and the orgasm broke over me, even more intense than the one he’d given me with his fingers, bliss crashing in waves as I bucked and gasped, his name tearing from my lips.
He picked up something from the floor. A wallet? A condom. The fog cleared, but only slightly. I thought I heard him mutter, “Thank God,” as he pulled it on, coming over my body again. He made eye contact and there was a question there, his muscles held taught, waiting.
“Yes,” I said, sliding my foot up his leg, welcoming him in.
A long breath flew from his mouth and the look of relief that filled his expression made my heart clench sharply. He lined his cock up at my entrance and pushed inside, guided by the slickness of my very recent climax, and I gasped out at the delicious invasion, my head falling back, fist grabbing a handful of the quilt beneath us.
“God, you feel . . . you feel . . . it’s even better . . .” He didn’t seem able to form a coherent sentence, giving up and ending on a long, ragged breath.
He wrapped his hand around my thigh, pulling my leg higher and sliding in slowly. I felt every inch of him as he withdrew and then filled me again, his muscles straining, the bed creaking softly beneath our movements.
“Haven . . . Haven . . . God.”
He moved slowly, biting his lip and a thrill of pleasure raced through me at the erotic beauty of him moving above me, inside me. The pace accelerated and I watched him, seeing the very moment he gave up the fight for control. I clutched him, wanting to continue watching his face, but feeling another wave of pleasure begin to crest, my muscles tightening until I cried out, bringing both legs around his hips and tilting my pelvis so that he went even deeper, prolonging my orgasm even as his broke and he moaned my name, burying his face in my neck as his hips slowed. Our pants mingled as he pressed inside me one final time.
For a few breathless moments, all was still and then Travis rolled to the side, pulling me toward him as our breathing slowed and our heart rates returned to normal.
I ran a finger idly under his pectoral, spreading my palm over the small patch of scattered hairs in the dip above his stomach.
The curtain lifted from the breeze blowing off the lake, the night outside soft and dreamy with moonlight.
And the world felt somehow both very distant and more beautiful than it’d ever been.
He brought his hand up and placed it over mine, halting my exploration on the small breath of a laugh. “Unless you’re ready for round two, you should probably stop that.” The twitching between his legs proved his words.
I grinned, twisting, and crossing my arms on his chest, propping my chin on my hands so I could look in his eyes. “Sounds like a challenge.”
He chuckled. “And one I’d gladly take on, except I don’t have any more condoms.”
Well, darn.
“We weren’t exactly quiet,” I said, my cheeks flushing as I recalled how many times I’d moaned his name and shouted for God, and likely all His heavenly angels, though some of our recent activity was still a blissful blur.
“Do you think we scandalized the crew?” he asked, one finger twisting in a curl. I moved my eyes to the side, watching it for a moment.
“I don’t know,” I said. “They’re a pretty accepting group.”
“They’d have to be, I guess.”
I breathed out a laugh. “Yes. But do you know what I notice most about them?”
“That they’re usually drunk?”
I laughed again as that finger continued to twist idly. “No. I notice that they all know exactly who they are and they make no apologies for it. We should strive to be like them.”
His eyes met mine, and he seemed to search my face for a moment, something warm and soft coming into his expression. “You’re right.” He looked away, back to that twisting finger now completely ensnared in my curl. “Everyone should strive to be like them,” he murmured softly, but I got the sense he was speaking for himself more so than “everyone.”
I watched him for a moment, my eyes moving slowly over the perfection of his features. He was so classically handsome, those vibrant eyes unusual and mesmerizing. I wondered momentarily if he looked like his mother or his father, and realized it had to be his father since he resembled his half-brother—the one he shared fathers with—so much.
The Hale boys were always wild. Hot as sin, and guaranteed to burn you if you got too close.
Yes, I could see that. Oh how I could see that.
Deep breath. Temporary. Friends.