Jesus, I’m not going to last.
“Sloan…baby. Slow down.”
“Why? So you can catch your breath and try to take back control?” She gives me a throaty laugh. “No.”
Impossibly, she picks up the pace again. Her nails dig into me, leaving a delicious sting in their wake. Her breathing turns almost as erratic as mine. Her cheeks flush hotter. A damp sheen of perspiration clings to her forehead and the tendrils curling at her temples and neck. It matches the coat of sweat springing up across my chest as I finally give in and grab her hips in a grip sure to leave bruises on her so-pale skin, plowing my way up inside her with a harsh bellowing exhalation as I shove her down deeper, teeth bared.
The way we fuck is fierce, unrestrained, and primal. It’s not like anything I’ve ever felt. It’s devastating to my senses. It’s catastrophic for my restraint.
I don’t want this to end—I want to stay inside her forever—but there’s no fucking way I can hold out. Need gathers low in my belly, searing, churning. I’m dizzy. Dying. Inside me, she’s brewing up the kind of orgasm that will flatten me and—I worry—change me forever. It’s seconds away, and I can’t do a damn thing to stop it.
I don’t want to.
With a snarl, I use all my will to topple Sloan onto her back without breaking rhythm or stroke. Then she’s satisfyingly beneath me, legs spread for me, clawing at me, ready to give in to me as I bang my way into her again and again and again. This doesn’t feel remotely sweet or romantic, but there’s no denying that with every crash inside her, I fall in love a little bit more.
“Come with me,” I demand.
Her breaths are choppy and frantic as she nods, hips rising to meet my every thrust. “Make me.”
“Do it. Now!” I growl out, balancing on the edge of ecstasy I know fucking well will shatter me.
“Yes!” she screams as she shudders and pulses around me.
That’s it. I’m gone.
I grip the arm of the sofa and surge into her over and over like a man possessed, reveling in the feel of her spasming around me as I unload—body, heart, and soul—deep inside her with a shout that doesn’t even sound human.
Pleasure pulls me under. My vision turns black, but I keep thrusting, only aware of her, the molten hot ecstasy coursing through my body, and the fact I feel transformed.
Long, unsteady moments later, I drag in an uneven breath. My head clears. My vision returns and focuses. Judging from Sloan’s dazed expression, she’s reeling, too.
Every time I think what’s between us can’t get better, it does. I don’t think that’s strictly because we’re learning one another’s bodies better. I’m convinced it’s because we’re falling deeper in love.
“Baby…” I nuzzle her neck. “That was so fucking beyond. We’re amazing together. You see that, right? Let’s talk this out. We have to—”
“No.” She shoves at me wildly until I pull free and sit back, then she jumps to her feet. “We don’t have anything to talk about. Sex doesn’t change the fact we’re on opposite—” She stops and looks down at the mix of our fluids running down her leg. “Shit.”
Immediately, I understand. I didn’t glove up, and she’s not on the pill. It was irresponsible and stupid. I would never try to get her pregnant on purpose…but if she conceived, would it be the worst thing?
“It’s okay, baby.” I hop up to grab her a paper towel from the kitchen counter. “We’re married. I’m here for you.”
“Bullshit.” She takes the scrap from my grasp and frantically wipes herself clean. “You’re here to close a deal. You’re here to stop me from persuading Michael Astor to say yes to Reservoir. You’re here to hoodwink me into being docile. And you’re in love with someone else. I’m just the idiot who didn’t stop you from using me again. Get out.”
“Don’t do this. I’m not in love with her anymore.”
“Isn’t that’s super convenient?”
Damn, Sloan’s sarcasm game is strong.
“No, it’s a fucking relief, actually. I love you. I didn’t see it coming, but I’m damn thrilled that I finally realize what I need and who makes me happy. You.”
“Bas, you’re a player. Guys like you never give up and concede defeat; they just step up their A game. I’m done. It’s over. You don’t put me first.” She grabs her clothes, now littered around the room, then shakes her head at me. But I see the tears gleaming in her eyes. “You’re incapable of putting me first. That will never change.”
The crack in her voice is breaking my heart. “No. Baby—”
“You say you love me. If that’s true at all, stop hurting me. Let me go.”
She doesn’t wait around for my reply, just unsuccessfully tries to hold back a sob as she hauls ass to her bedroom door and slams it.