Page 42 of Resist

Ainsley gasped when Coulton pushed in, right to the hilt. After so much foreplay—and sex—she was more than prepared for him and his deep, powerful thrusts.

He lowered his upper body, supporting it with his elbows on the mattress by her sides. They were closer this way, his face inches from hers. They’d done stand-up sex and doggie style, tearing into each other like they’d die if they didn’t come.

This time was slower, closer. More intimate.

Especially when he started kissing her as he rocked inside her.

All her senses were on overload again, until all she could see, hear, taste, smell, and touch was Coulton. He was overwhelming her in all the best ways, and despite coming…well, she’d lost count of how many times she had come, he brought her back to the precipice again, more quickly than she would have expected.

“I’m there,” she said, her voice more air than sound. “Come with me.”

Coulton nodded, his lips traveling over her cheek, along the side of her neck. With one more hard thrust, he bit her shoulder and Ainsley fell from the cliff. And Coulton, bless him, jumped into the abyss with her.

* * *

Ainsley lay awake an hour later in the darkness of Coulton’s room, her eyes darting toward the clock on his nightstand. It was nearly four in the morning, but she refused to let herself get too comfortable here.

Coulton had delivered on all three of his sexual promises, so the smart thing to do would be to cut and run. Sleeping together would only muddy waters that were already as murky as the Mississippi.

Glancing to the side, she studied his face. He looked so peaceful and boyish with his hair mussed and hanging over his forehead, almost covering his eyes. He was on his stomach, his face turned toward her, his eyes closed, and his arm was wrapped around her waist.

Ugh. Time to stop looking.

She slowly and carefully lifted his arm, trying to wiggle her way to the side of the bed.

He stirred, his grip tightening as he drew her body against his.

“Where are you going?” he asked sleepily.

“Home.”

“No. It’s too late. Spend the night.”

“I wasn’t sure…”

Coulton came more fully awake. He cupped her cheek, looking at her with something like…

God, was that what affection looked like?

“Stay,” he insisted.

“Are you sure?”

He gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek. “You’re staying.” He cemented that proclamation by turning her until he was the big spoon to her little one, sighing softly, as if all was right with his world.

Ainsley had never experienced that feeling, but she couldn’t help but share the sentiment. Because right now, in this moment, her world felt very, very right too.

* * *

Ainsley stretched her arms above her head, wincing slightly as unused muscles reminded her of exactly what she’d gotten up to last night.

She grinned, squinting as a strip of bright light shone through a crack in the curtains. A quick glance at the clock told her it was just after nine a.m.

Ordinarily, she didn’t even roll over until eleven.

But this morning, like yesterday, she had incentive to move.

Because she could smell bacon.

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