Page 189 of Back in the Saddle

Ericwas my world.

And I was lost to him.

When I emerged, Eric’s rhythm had increased, but his eyes were locked on me, there was a heated fluidity to the inky depths that was awesome, considering it showed openly how much he got off on making me come that hard.

But I could sense him holding back.

I got that, I didn’t want this to end either.

Still.

“Let go, baby,” I whispered.

He kissed me, but he didn’t let go.

I bit his lower lip, dug my nails into his ass, and through his sexy groan and sexier growl, I repeated, “Baby, let go.”

He buried his face in my neck, finally thrusting hard and deep (giving me a preview of just how fantastic fucking was going to be with Eric). I wrapped both my calves around him, and then he grunted, before he sunk his teeth into my flesh (fabulous), buried himself inside and poured himself into me (and that was phenomenal).

His big body gave a glorious shudder when it left him that felt so good, it was like he was starting foreplay again. Then he ran his lips along where he bit me before they glided up my neck, along my jaw, to my mouth.

This kiss was a return to long, wet and languid, with lots of hands roaming, a circling back to the beginning that felt like a promise.

That promise being, we’d just shared the most intimate thing two people could do, and it was over. But it was never really going to be over.

Because we were never going to be over.

Oh shit, I was going to cry again.

Eric broke our kiss and whispered, “Okay?”

I swallowed hard and nodded.

His eyes warmed, his face got soft, and he was still whispering when he noted, “So you felt it.”

I nodded again and made a sobby noise deep in my throat.

His lips were twitching when he asked, “Are you gonna cry?”

“No,” I forced out, but it was croaky, and it sounded like I was going to cry.

I felt his body move with laughter before I heard it.

So, obviously, I slapped his arm and snapped, “Turner!”

“Hardass, greet-the-day-by-flipping-it-the-bird-and-getting-on-with-it Jess Wylde, crying after her man makes her come hard,” he teased.

“I don’t greet the day by flipping it the bird,” I denied.

He raised his brows.

Whatever.

“So I greet the day by flipping it the bird, metaphorically,” I admitted. “A lot of the time the day flips me the bird back, so I gotta get mine in before it does.”

“Right.”

I didn’t want to ruin the moment, so I didn’t remind him that today hadn’t given me an awesome greeting…or him.

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