Easton covered my hand with one of his, trapping me to him. “What do you want, Gem?”
A place.
A safe place. A forever place.
Maybe that place didn’t exist for women like me, so I stood on my toes, threw my free arm around his shoulders and brushed my lips against his before I gave him my second choice. “You.”
He didn’t hesitate. Easton crushed his lips to mine, letting my hand go so both arms could snake around me. The heat from his body spread like fire, racing through my body and stealing my breath.
I gasped as he lifted me off my toes and took one long stride into the cabin, kicking the door closed behind us with his boot.
His tongue swept inside my mouth, twisting and tangling with mine, as a rush of desire pooled in my core. The erection beneath his jeans dug into my hip and his hard length only increased the frenzy.
I was needy. Aching. Melting into his strong body. I latched on to his bottom lip, sucking it into my mouth as my arms clung to him.
“Stop.” He broke his mouth away, panting. “Are you sure?”
“If you walk out that door without fucking me, I’ll never speak to you again.”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “Promise?”
I laughed and leaned in to take his earlobe between my teeth. “Easton. Fuck me.”
“Whatever you say, darlin’.” His mouth latched on to the skin of my neck and he spun us toward the living room but stopped after two steps. “Wait. Damn it. I don’t have a condom.”
I pointed over his shoulder to the coat rack. “Purse.”
Easton spun us again, growling against my skin as he walked. His hands dropped to my ass, palming it with those large hands before setting me down so I could yank my purse off the hook and dig.
His chest hit my back and his lips found the sensitive spot beneath my ear. The caress of his breath and the wet warmth of his tongue dizzied my brain and I swayed on my feet. His arms banded around me, and one hand cupped my breast as the other went for the button on my jeans.
“Hustle up,” he commanded.
I was struggling to keep a grip on my purse, let alone search through it in the hopes that I’d find the condom I carried for emergency purposes.
When I couldn’t feel it in the interior pocket, I started throwing things onto the floor. Lip glosses. Pens. A packet of gum. I ripped items out in a flurry, just wanting to find my goddamn wallet as Easton tortured me with his lips and hands.
My nipples were pebbled inside my bra and when he slipped a hand underneath my sweater, raking those calloused fingers up my ribs, I began to quiver.
“Gemma. Condom.”
I snapped back to reality, clinging to the last thread of my focus to search for my wallet. When I had it in my hand, I threw my twelve-thousand-dollar handbag on the floor and ripped open the flap of the matching wallet.
My finger hit the foil packet at the exact moment Easton’s slid into my panties and found my clit.
“Oh my God.” I sagged against him, letting him hold me up as my eyes fell closed. “East, I . . .” My ability to speak and form coherent sentences disappeared as he toyed with me, playing me with those expert fingers.
“Come.” His gravelly voice tickled my skin as two of his fingers slid inside. “Come on my fingers.”
I managed a nod before a surge of heat spread through my limbs. Ecstasy consumed every nerve ending until I bucked against his hand and detonated. My orgasm was hard and fast and so fucking satisfying. I was still riding the high when he slid both his hands free and spun me around, catching me before I could topple to the floor.
Easton shuffled me backward until my back hit the wall. He took my chin in a hand and tipped it up, holding me exactly where he wanted me as his mouth crashed onto mine.
My palm flattened against his zipper, rubbing his arousal through the denim. He groaned down my throat, pressing deeper into my touch. Then his hand released my jaw so he could use both hands to strip the jeans off my hips.
I kicked them off as he took a fistful of my lace panties and shredded them off my body.
“Open it.” He nodded to the condom I’d managed to keep in my fingers. Then the sound of metal scraping metal filled my ears as he flicked the clasp on his oval belt buckle. The sound of his zipper opening came next.
“Holy fuck.” My eyes bulged as his thick length bobbed free. He’d been wearing nothing under those jeans the entire time. No boxers or briefs. Just Easton Greer going commando as he’d sat at my small table eating spaghetti.
Too distracted by the sight of his cock, I nearly dropped the condom. He snatched it from me before it fell from my fingers and put the foil between his teeth to rip it open and sheath himself.
Then I was up, his hands lifting me in the air with a swift bounce before he spread my legs wide and thrust inside.
“Ah,” I gasped, stretching around him as he fell forward, cursing and groaning into my neck. “Move.”
He shook his head.
“East, move.” I dug my nails into his back, clawing through his shirt. That earned me a nip on my jaw as he slid out only to push inside again, this time going even deeper.
My entire body shivered.
“Fuck, that feels good.”
I hummed my agreement as he slid in and out once more.
We moved in tandem, his hips rolling forward as I leveraged the wall to meet his strokes. The sound of slapping skin and labored breathing filled the room. He kept his eyes locked on mine, that intense gaze boring into mine with every move. Easton held me captive, pinned and at his mercy.
The build of my second orgasm was slower than the first, but it didn’t take Easton long to bring me to the breaking point. Sparks pooled and I felt—I felt everything—as I toppled over the edge. The explosion was devastating. He shattered me completely, leaving me in tiny pieces that would never fit together in the same way again.
“Christ, Gem,” he whispered, leaning into me as I clenched around him, pulse after endless pulse, until he moaned into my ear and shuddered with his own release.
I collapsed into him as we both came down, my arms limp and boneless as I gave him my weight. My ponytail had come loose and my hair was draped around us. My ankles were locked around his back and my cashmere sweater was likely ruined from this encounter with a log wall.
Much like with my French lace panties, I couldn’t find the energy to care.
With a kiss to my temple, Easton eased me to my feet, holding my elbow as I found my balance. “Good?”
I nodded and shoved my hair out of my face. “I’m good.”
“Be back.” He pulled his jeans up to cover his ass, the zipper and the belt hanging loose, as he disappeared down the hallway to the bathroom.
I blinked away the fog and searched for my jeans. I stepped into them and had them buttoned as he emerged.
Jeans zipped. Belt fastened. Shirt tucked.
His eyes flickered between me and the door.
“So . . .” I picked up the scrap of fabric formerly known as my underwear.
“I’m not good at this,” he admitted, raking a hand through the hair I’d tousled at some point. “The after.”
The after? Oh. After a hookup. Right.
“Then let’s skip it. Goodnight, Easton.”
He sighed and walked toward the door, hesitating for a moment like he was going to come over and kiss me. But he didn’t. He twisted the knob, tipped his chin and said, “Goodnight, Gemma.”