Page 80 of Moving Forward

“Couldn’t sleep last night,” he tells me huskily. “Kept thinking about doing this. Thinking about the way you looked on the boat when you came.”

I brace my hand against his chest. For some reason, I really want to run my tongue across the ridges of his taut body. I’ve never in my life wanted to do that to someone. Kiss, maybe. Lick, never. He’s just so mouthwatering.

“Then why aren’t you doing anything?” I ask in an uneven voice.

His chuckle tickles my cheek. “Because I never want this to end.”

“So, you’re just not going to start?”

He presses kisses along my neck until I tilt it to the side to give him better access. He finds a spot just below my ear and shows it a lot of attention. “Oh, I’m going to start. This is just something I want to commit to memory first.”

“For later?” I tease. My voice betrays me by wobbling.

His tongue flicks against my skin. “You gettin’ brave on me, Peaches?” he all but growls. “You should know that if you’re talking about my shower time, you’ve been the only thing on my mind. Before it was just fantasies, but now I’ve got the visuals. All of this is getting committed to my memory. All of those sexy sounds you make and the way you move when I touch you, when you call out my name . . . I’ll never forget any of it. I’ll spend a thousand years on fire before I do.”

I gasp as his teeth give a small nip. He pulls away, his hands gripping the bottom of my shirt. “What do you say we take this off? Like you a whole hell of a lot in it, but I think I’ll like it better off.”

I lift my arms, completely lost to his control and he slips it off. He wads it up and throws it onto the counter. I’m left standing there in only my bra and underwear. Yesterday when I picked out my undergarments, I didn’t really have taking my clothes off in mind. What I’m wearing isn’t runway-ready. I’m not even matching. My underwear is pink with white polka dots and my bra is a soft shade of teal, neither of which are sexy or even cute. Just comfortable and girlie, meant to be worn, not seen.

Luckily Cain doesn’t seem to care. He taps the glittery bow between my breasts. “This needs to go too.” His hand snakes around my back and flicks the clasp open. He gently takes each of my straps in hand and slips the bra off my shoulders and down my arms, an almost reverent expression on his face. When my bra falls completely away, the cold air hits the tips of my breasts and my nipples pull into hard peaks.

“Wish you knew how perfect you are,” he murmurs before capturing one of my breasts in his mouth. His tongue does glorious things, circling my nipple and flicking it, but it’s not until he tugs on it with his teeth that I nearly come undone. I grab blindly at his short hair, calling his name, begging him for more, less, everything, I don’t know. Everything about his mouth on my breast is so deliriously distracting I don’t notice his fingers pushing aside my panties.

“Peaches.” His lips move back up to my neck. “We’re not going to do anything you don’t want to. Tell me you want this.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t concentrate on what he’s saying. Not with his hand so close to where I need him to touch me.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Look at me.” One hand remains under the edges of my panties, but the other one cups my cheek. “Tell me you want this.”

“I . . . I do,” I stutter softly.

He presses a soft kiss against the corner of my mouth and leans his forehead against mine. “Relax,” he commands softly. “It’s okay to let go when you’re with me.”

On the last word, his finger slips inside of me. I tense, completely out of practice for how invasive and personal this is. I resist the urge to grab his arm and hold him tight as he guides his finger deeper until he’s cupping me with the heel of his hand.

“Damn, Max. You’re so tight. So wet. Shit, you’re wet for me,” he says reverently. His eyes sparkle as he stares down at his hand against me. “Can’t wait to be inside of you for real. Can’t wait to taste you.”

Taste me? Oh. Oh. The image of him between my naked thighs, staring at me and licking his bottom lip, flashes hot through my brain and I shiver. Yeah, I don’t think I can wait either.

His hand works me over, lifting me higher and higher with each stroke, until I’m clawing at his back and begging him for . . . “More,” I demand in a voice I can’t believe is mine.

“Baby, I’ll give and give to you until I’ve got nothing left,” he tells me in a gruff voice, and adds another finger.

I moan and throw my head back against the refrigerator. I can’t see anything anymore. My vision is blurry and all I can hear is my heartbeat, with Cain’s voice breaking in now and then. My hips move on their own accord, seeking more relief, trying to get his hand to press against just the right place. He grips my butt to help me do exactly that. Suddenly I’m tumbling into total and complete bliss. I cry out his name and writhe in his arms, gripping anything I can reach—his arms, his hair.

When I finally come down, he’s murmuring things in my ear, the complete opposite of the dirty words that were coming out of his mouth earlier. Those words . . . they were perfect because they were right for the situation. They turned me on more than I’m willing to admit. These words, though . . . he’s telling me I’m gorgeous and perfect and his, and they’re the only words I’ve ever wanted or needed to hear. All the while his fingers move inside me still, driving me through the aftershocks.

He presses a kiss against my shoulder then lifts me into his arms and carries me to his bed. He deposits me there and tucks the covers around my mostly naked body, giving me a soft, loving look. “I’ve got somethin’ to take care of. I’ll be right back to hold you.”

Then he turns around and heads for his bathroom.

I lie there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of the shower. I’m completely mindless, floating on cloud orgasm. My heart is beating in my chest heavily and outrageously slow. That felt inhumanly perfect. I’ve never even experienced anything that intense before.

I’m still unresponsive when Cain walks out of the bathroom wearing only a pair of ratty sweats that sag on his hips. He crawls into bed beside me and pulls me against his chest. “I never would have guessed you would be this mellow.”

All I can do is sigh happily.

He nuzzles my shoulder. “Pretty sure I like you like this.”

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