The soft chuckle was a caress against my inner thigh. He slid the last tiny bit of material down my legs, and I watched as he bent over me, lowering his body to mine. The contact of skin against skin sent a wave of lust to every molecule I possessed.
A crinkle of a wrapper sounded, and then he poised to enter me, the tip of him teasing my opening, and I lifted my hips up in encouragement and impatience. Slowly and deliberately, he sank inside me, only to pull out with the same languid stroke. I bit my lip, drowning in that glorious feel of him. Then with one quick thrust, he was buried deep inside me. His eyes never left mine as he watched me while he moved. Pleasure increased with each stroke, and I could no longer keep my eyes open. They drifted shut, basking me in the glory of his body joining with mine.
I rolled my hips in rhythm with his, but the bastard took his sweet time torturing me, keeping me right on the edge of tumbling over the cliff. That didn’t work for me. My legs clamped around him as my thighs rose high, thrusting him deeper inside.
A curse fell from his sexy lips. His hands attached to my wrists, holding them prisoner over my head as he thrust into me hard and fast. This was exactly what my ex, Harvey, could never achieve. The perfect balance of desperation and need, pleasure and pain. My wrists might sport bruises tomorrow, but I didn’t care. I wanted this.
My climax ripped out of me, a cry of pleasure tumbling from my lips up into the glass dome ceiling above us. He kept his word. He made me scream. Seconds later, Brock trembled along with me, his body muscles tight as he pulsed inside me.
For a few moments afterward, I couldn’t move. We stayed joined together, breathless and tired, our skin glistening under the starlight. I lifted my hand, brushing a damp strand of hair out of his face.
I missed him the moment he slipped out of me, which should have been a big red flashing sign, but I was already thinking about the next time. And how soon I could get him to slip his dick back inside me.
He rolled to the side, taking me with him so we faced each other, sprawled out from one end of the couch to the other. Swinging a possessive arm over me, he rested his hand at the small of my back. “You don’t strike me as a cuddler,” I told him.
His expression was relaxed and unguarded for once, and it made him appear younger. “Is that so? Maybe because you didn’t give me a chance the first time.”
My lips twitched. True. But in my defense, I never thought I would see him again.
His chest rubbed against my breasts, and I leaned forward, catching his lips with mine. I felt myself grow wet. When I ended the kiss, his eyes were dark. “Again? God, Firefly, you are not like most girls.”
I flattened a hand on his chest and pushed slightly, but he didn’t budge. “Thanks, I think. Just don’t fall in love with me,” I teased.
He chuckled, his hand tracing lazy circles over my back. “I don’t believe in love.”
“Good, because neither do I. I don’t want this to get messy.” I liked things just the way they were. No strings attached. I didn’t want him to expect anything from me. I wouldn’t disappoint him then, and he wouldn’t hurt me.
It seemed like a levelheaded approach.
But things rarely were ever that simple.
“Any chance next time we can make it to a bed?” I asked. That was twice I’d had sex with Brock on a couch. “Not that I’m complaining, but I’d really love to try this somewhere with an actual mattress.” Not just any bed. I wanted to be surrounded by a room that was entirely his. I wanted to smell him on the sheets, and when I left, I wanted my scent to linger in his bed so every time he went to sleep, he thought of me.
I wanted to drive him as crazy as he drove me.
With a lazy grin, he shook his head. “You’re insatiable. Besides, couches might be our thing. But… I think it could be arranged,” he murmured.
If I stayed like this, entangled with him, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from touching him. It had been stupid to think I’d be rid of this need for him after one round. Sitting up, I searched the floor for my shirt. It was under his sweatpants. I stood up and slipped it on and turned to face him.
Bad idea.
His hair was rumpled from my fingers. The man had no shame, utterly comfortable in his skin. He owned his nakedness, and with the contours of his body and sculpted muscles, why shouldn’t he? I tilted my head to the side as I unashamedly stared at him. “Is sleeping with you part of the Elite protection package?” I asked, joining him back on the couch. I couldn’t stay away.
The corner of his mouth curved up, and he brushed my hair off my shoulder. “Hey, you came on to me.”
My whole body jumped alive at his touch. “I did not. Besides, it’s not like you complained.”
“You’re nothing like I expected.”
Something in his voice made my heart skip.
His finger trailed down the column of my neck. “Do you have a problem with commitment?”
“Don’t you?” I countered. “I mean, you have standby girls.”
“I’m not talking about me,” he replied levelheadedly.
“How about we just don’t talk,” I whispered.