Page 53 of Mending Hearts

I scanned the open kitchen and living room, and a pang of contentment hit me. This would be a good place to write. If I needed a break, there was a kitchen and a TV and the internet. The only thing I’d have at the train station was the studio. There was lots of time to be holed up there alone.

“Here, I think.” I gazed up at him. “Is that okay?”

“Wherever you think you’ll work best. Whatever will make you happiest.”

Warmth spread across my chest at his words. He made me happy. For the moment, being here with him made me happy. Had I ever experienced this lightness, this freeness before? As though I could take on the world and win.

Lacing my fingers with his, I led him toward the basement stairs.

“You tired?” he asked as he trod down the stairs behind me.

“Nope.” I glanced at him over my shoulder.

“You want my help with something?” He squeezed my hand, and his tone was teasing.

“I’ve got an itch only you can scratch.” At the bottom of the stairs, I turned in his arms.

“Oh, yeah?” He dipped his head to rub his scruff along the most sensitive part of my neck. I clung to his arms, desire shooting from my neck to my toes. “Is it there or somewhere else?” His gruff voice made my legs tremble.

“Just,” I whispered, sliding his hand along my thigh and up under my skirt to where I was already throbbing with need, “here.”

Two of his fingers circled in a slow, leisurely movement. “Like this?”

I clung to his shoulders and then tugged his lips to mine, our mouths sliding over each other, tongues tangling. When he increased the pressure of his fingers, I gasped into his mouth and squeezed his biceps.

“Too much?”

“No, God, no. More.” My lips collided with his, and I pressed closer.

His hands slid around my ass and lifted me, so my legs circled his waist. With a few quick strides, he had me against the doorframe of his bedroom, his tongue in my mouth, and my hands tangled in his hair.

I couldn’t remember the last time I was this turned on by so little. Had our encounter been this good, this desperate last time?

“I want you so badly.” I moaned when his tongue flicked along my earlobe and then returned to my mouth. His erection pressed against my core, and when he shifted his grip, he rubbed against me. “Oh, God,” I breathed. “Do that again.”

One of his hands secured our lower bodies together against the door while his other dug into my hair, kissing me deeply as he thrust against me. He broke the kiss, his breath heavy in my ear as he thrust against me again.

There were still too many pieces of clothing between us, but the friction was amazing. I wanted this tingling, breathtaking feeling to go on forever. Already, I was close to coming and could feel my climax building.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day, burying myself deep inside of you, feeling you come around my cock.” His voice was gruff with need.

Weeks. I’d been thinking about being with him for weeks. Too long. I ran my fingers through his hair and brought his mouth back, our tongues tangling, and he pressed us tight together before walking us to his king-sized bed.

He laid me on the duvet, and when his fingertips skimmed my panties, he groaned. “You’re so wet.”

I tangled my fingers in the bottom of his shirt, tugging it over his head and tossing it onto the floor. I ran my hands along his chest before leaning up and flicking his nipple with my tongue. He groaned and pulled my shirt over my head, releasing my bra with a snap of his fingers. All of it he tossed aside, not caring where it landed.

“Gorgeous,” he muttered, bending his head to take each breast into his mouth, sucking on each nipple before grazing them with his teeth.

My hands were buried in his hair, keeping him close, silently begging him for more. I couldn’t get enough, didn’t know if I’d ever get enough.

While he teased my breasts, his hands shimmied my skirt and panties to the floor. I reached for the button on his jeans, but he shook his head.

“Not yet.” He skimmed my folds with his fingertips.

“Tyler,” I moaned.

He spread my legs and then dipped down between them, his tongue lapping me up. “God, you’re so wet, so sweet. I could eat you all day.”

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