I try not to think about how my friend is about to go down on me, and instead I revel in the fact that he’s the man I’ve wanted for so long. This truth sings through my brain while he hikes my legs up and over his shoulders, and I relax, falling into the bliss of his touch.
He spreads me with his fingers and then lowers his mouth; the scruff of his jaw deliciously scrapes along my inner thigh as he brings himself to my center. He presses his tongue flat against me and very slowly drags it up only to return, repeating the movement.
I’ve never in my life felt anything like it before—the pressure, the rhythm, the possessiveness in his grip on my hips, the feel of his jaw, rough against my delicate thighs—it’s like he knows exactly how to push me higher and higher, and he’s pressing every button.
Tongue flat against my clit, he moves it back and forth, gliding rather than flicking, and it’s like he’s fully massaging me as he holds my hips in place. White-hot bursts of pleasure shoot through me with every twitch of his tongue, and before I know it, my orgasm is building up, coming from so deep inside of me that I can’t seem to feel anything from the waist down besides where he’s pressing his tongue.
Hands grip my bedding.
Chest shoots up.
Heart about to break my ribs from beating so fast.
A gasp.
A moan.
And then it hits me; pure pleasure rips through my body, tearing through every defense I’ve ever erected and exposing me, raw and real, for Reid to see.
Vulnerable.
High off of him.
And when he looks up, he sees it. He can see what he just did to me, how he tore me down and revealed the real me. Not the sassy Eve or the witty Eve or the Eve who’s constantly teasing him. No, he sees the down-to-earth, sometimes fragile, and completely genuine Eve. The same Eve he comforted at the cemetery.
Two times in one day. I very well might be lost to this man.
Pressing a kiss against my stomach, he works his way back up to my face, tenderly brushing his thumb over my cheek as he stares down at me.
I’m at a loss for words, unable to formulate any sort of response. I feel so beyond vulnerable that all I want to do is bury my head in his chest and avoid looking into those eyes, those comforting, endlessly sexy eyes.
“Hey,” he says quietly before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “Are you okay?”
“Great.” I return his chaste kiss and then run my hand down his rock-hard body to his solid erection, which is lying flat against my leg.
In one smooth motion, he rotates us so he’s on his back, and I’m on top. Smiling, I slide down his body, letting his skin glide against mine until I reach his cock. I take in a deep breath and stare down at his length. It’s more than ready, aching for any sort of release, so I wrap my hand around the base and squeeze.
His eyes shut, and the veins in his neck pop as he tries to hold on to control. I squeeze again but this time move my hand up a few inches and then back down. His chest muscles contract, his hands search for something to hold on to, and when I lower my mouth down to the tip and flick my tongue across the head, his entire upper half lifts from the bed, and his hand is cupping my chin.
“Fuck, Eve, you can’t do that. I’ll come in seconds. And when that happens, I want to be deep inside of you.”
Desperation laces his face, and I know I want that just as much as he does. I want him to claim me, to possess me, to take everything I have to give and make it his.
So I roll to the side and pull out a box of condoms from my nightstand. He frowns at the stash and then looks back at me.
“How many—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence.” I press my finger to his lips. “This is just you and me.”
Still frowning, he eyes the box.
Ugh, men.
I soothingly rub my hand over his corded chest. “It’s been a while for me, if that makes you feel better, but I like to make sure I always have something on hand, just in case.”
Still not happy, he hops up from the bed and walks out to the bathroom. My stomach drops when I hear him pick up his jeans. Is he really leaving?
But then he comes back with a strip of condoms and rips one off, and my stomach returns to its rightful place.
He hops back on the bed and pushes the box away. “Those won’t fit me.”
Hmm . . . I guess they won’t.
“And I suggest you get rid of them because you won’t need them anymore.” He rolls the condom on and sweeps me onto my back, placing me beneath him again. My heart flutters, and I can’t contain the smile that’s lifting the corners of my mouth.
You won’t need them anymore.
Just like that, in an instant, Reid Knightly is claiming me. There’s no talking about it, no awkward conversation, just one statement that speaks louder than any other long talk about where this might be going.
You won’t need them anymore.
The best five words I think I’ve heard in a long time.
“Spread your legs, Eve,” he says, his voice gruff, just about to lose control.
I do as he says, and the tip of his cock dances with my entrance as he leans down and greedily takes my mouth with his. And there’s no more soft, teasing exploration this time around. No, something passes through us, a carnal need to be as close to one another as possible.
Tongues clash.
Teeth collide.
Lips fight for more.
And the tip of his cock slowly enters me, stilling my mouth and pulling a gasp straight from my lungs.
“Relax,” he whispers, moving his lips to my ear and then down my jaw while his hand travels up my stomach to my breast. Barely inside me, he rolls my nipple between his fingers, and immediately my lower half relaxes, allowing him to slide in a few more inches. He continues to roll my nipple over and over, lighting me up inside, sending wave after wave of thrilling pleasure through my veins.
“Fuck,” he mutters, pushing in farther. “Shit, Eve, you feel too damn good.”
His mouth travels back to mine, and this time the crazed man who, just a moment before, took over my lips has turned his kisses to soft, passionate ones. Long, slow strokes with his tongue match the slow roll of his fingers over my nipples. His hips lazily move in and out, pushing deeper with every thrust. When he’s fully inside, he stills, letting me adjust to his thickness.
He’s so much more than I expected. From his broad and sculpted body to the feel of his rough scruff against my sensitive skin to his dirty mouth, being with Reid by far exceeds any fantasies I’ve ever had.
The real man is addicting, intoxicating, consuming.
I get lost in his touch, in his pulses, in his sweet and tender kisses.
In the span of one snowy evening, on a day that brings sorrow and pain, Reid Knightly has easily destroyed me for all other men.
A thick pressure builds at the base of my spine, and with each thrust, it builds higher and higher until my impending orgasm starts to ripple through my body.
“Reid,” I gasp, surprised at how quickly that happened. “I’m going to—”
“Me . . . too,” he growls right before he picks up the pace and sends us both over the edge, our moans mingling together, his deep, mine a high, breathy gasp.
His thrusts dull until he presses his body against mine and buries his head in my neck. We’re panting, both catching our breath as our pulses skyrocket, our hearts beating wildly against each other.