The first thrust is a slow slide into her tightness. The look on her face is as desperate as I feel. The biting of her bottom lip, the flush of her cheeks, and the line in her forehead tells me she’s relishing in the tortuous pleasure.
“Fuck.” I swallow and pray I don’t blow with just a few thrusts like a sixteen-year-old boy.
I fill her completely, root to tip, and the sensation deep in the core of her pussy is unexplainable.
My feral groan breaks the silence. The scent of sex overwhelms my senses and overpowers the burning wicks in the candlelit room.
We flip and now she’s straddling my hips and rides me as I fondle her tits, using my fingers to pinch her nipples. Her pussy wraps around my dick like a vise when her muscles contract. I can’t take it anymore as my orgasm climbs.
I grab ahold of her hips, guiding Delilah up and down.
Moan after moan.
Groan after groan.
Sweat beads on our skin.
Carnal, coveting, and craving desire rolls in the cotton sheets.
The ecstasy of our climax propels us to snap, we both come undone and let go. She continues to slide over my semi-hard cock as I release myself in her.
“Holy fuck, baby,” I grunt through clenched teeth.
Our labored breathing is all that can be heard in the room. But I hear something else she can’t. The cracks forming in the armor surrounding my heart, because I have fallen so hard for this woman now lying on top of my chest.
If I thought I was scared shitless to start anything with her, now I’m even more fucking afraid I’ll lose her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Delilah
As I come out of my hazy sleep, I flip over and am met with an empty bed and cold sheets.
I had about three glasses of wine and if my memory serves me correctly, I refused the fourth while questioning Brody’s disappearing act on the way back to my suite.
Was Brody here? Was that all a figment of my imagination, a dream?
Refocusing my vision and centering my thoughts, there’s a faint scent of burned candles in the air. On the pillow is a letter.
I went for a run and I’ll pick up some breakfast on my way back.
~B
It wasn’t a dream. Last night really did happen. It was one of the most incredible nights I have ever had.
Brody was gentle with his hands and promising words. He made me feel beautiful, sexy, and the center of his world. He showed that I matter to him and made our first time special.
And even though last night wasn’t a dream, I had no nightmares either. Fear no longer reigns and rules my life. Taking a deep breath in, I find myself smiling. This man has healed my spirit and helped me get back my self-worth.
But with only a couple of hours of sleep, my mind whirls back to how unselfish he was giving me the handful of orgasms before he got himself off.
I sit up, grab Brody’s blue shirt he wore last night from the end of the bed and slip it on. I grab my phone to see the time. 8:12 a.m. It may feel like I’m on a mini vacation, but it’s Friday and I still need to get some work done.
I call the office, answer a few emails, and then call Dylan to see if he needs anything from me before I see him at his surprise proposal to Phoebe.
I look at the time again and got that all done in under forty-five minutes.
A smile tugs at my mouth seeing the sunflowers and petals scattered all over the floor. Then it hits me . . . how did he know where my room was and how did he get in? Thinking back to the time he found me at the diner, then changed my battery. The man is full of surprises.
He showed up last night, stood in the middle of my room as shadows danced against his body. Something changed between us as he explained it all. Why he ran away from California and wanted to start over, to find a new identity. Much like me.
I make my way to the bathroom, tiptoeing between the flowers. I do my business and brush my teeth. As much as I want to keep Brody’s scent of sweat and cologne on my skin, I turn on the shower, stepping into the steam as the hot water pelts my skin.
While rinsing the conditioner out of my hair, I hear the shower door slide open. A very handsome, sexy, and naked man steps into the shower. His mesmerizing brandy-colored eyes and his perfectly chiseled body speak a language my body understands.
His hand grazes my wet skin. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“How was your run?”
“It was good until I realized how much I missed you. I thought about how stupid I was to leave you naked and alone this morning,” he murmurs as his eyes skim my nakedness.
He’s standing under the large showerhead as the water runs down the length of his magnificent body. My fingernails trace his skin, starting from his broad shoulders, biceps, triceps, defined chest, his eight pack abs, and down the V where my hand meets his hard cock.
He hisses, closes his eyes, and throws his head back as I cup his balls in my hand and fondle him.
“I was gentle last night, but I don’t know if I can be right now,” he says, lifting his head and his eyes lock onto mine.
“What’s stopping you?” I say coyly, then bite my bottom lip.
A wickedly sexy smile tugs at his mouth. He grabs my ass, lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his torso. My back flattens against the cold tile and his warm chest presses against my breasts.
He crashes his mouth onto mine, and this isn’t an ordinary kiss. This is a take-no-prisoners kiss as his palm slides up my spine and around my neck, bracing me to his mouth.
Is this how it will be every time? The skin-to-skin contact initiating the full-blown inferno, making me want him more than I did the last time.
“I’m going to take you hard and fast, baby.”
I curl my hands around his neck and hold on tight as he slides into me. There is no longer a want, but a need built out of hunger and longing as he pistons his hips. His movements are fierce as our bodies collide and emotions explode, taking me to a level of bliss there are no words to describe.
I angle my head, exposing my neck. His mouth and tongue caress the tender spot near my collarbone. Liquid desire flows through every fiber of my body and I feel alive.
“This body is mine . . . you understand?” His gruff voice is possessive and my body obeys his every command.
“Yes,” I say as my teeth graze the skin of his shoulders and the water sheaths our nakedness. “I’m yours.”
There is something so raw and real with the water pelting our already slippery skin.
It’s just us, vulnerable and naked.
The passion is definite.
I give and he takes.
Sensory overload as the pleasure builds.
My sensitive nipples rub against his chest.
My fingers tangle in his wet hair.
He exhales as I inhale, breathing each other in.
“Don’t stop . . . right there,” I moan.
He pulls out just a little and plunges back into me, the repeating motion leaves me breathless.
His dick swells in my sex and pulses as our panting grows heavier.
“Are you ready? I can’t hold out much longer,” he murmurs.
I shift my slippery body and purposely clench my hold around his dick so he can satisfy the one spot yearning for his touch.
Our ecstasy catapults into an explosion of fireworks.
“Brody,” I cry his name as every coherent thought vanishes and echoes against the tiled walls.