Page 40 of It Happened Again

One hand slid beneath my thigh, the other tracing the slope of my hip as his mouth began its descent again. My skin bloomed under each kiss, and the electricity between us sparked like it had been waiting eons to ignite. Every nerve, every breath, every heartbeat belonged to this. To him. To us.

For a playful moment, his teeth latched onto the thin strap of my panties, pulling them down and off. So sexy.

He stood then, gaze heavy with heat, and pushed his jeans and boxers down in one smooth move. My breath caught as he straightened, the lamplight carving golden shadows across every sculpted line of his body. My eyes devoured the sight of him, every inch of skin, the slight flush on his chest, the tension in his arms.

He met my gaze, his voice low. “Are you on the pill?”

I shook my head, breathless. “No.”

Without hesitation, he reached for his wallet and tore open a condom, the rustle loud in the quiet room. He sheathed himself slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. The intimacy of it sent a jolt through me—he was so careful, so present, I was utterly captivated by how much I wanted him.

“You’re sure of what you want, Mais?” he asked again, even as desire burned in every inch of his posture.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Completely.”

His lips grazed the insides of my thighs, slow and deliberate, and I nearly came undone right there. The soft scratch of his stubble, the press of his mouth against my skin—every sensation lit me up from the inside out. When his tongue found my clit, I gasped, hips lifting instinctively to meet his mouth.

“Oh—Brooks…”

He didn’t stop. He didn’t rush. He explored me, like he was mapping the stars with his tongue. And I couldn’t stop the moans that slipped from my lips, or the way my hands fisted in the sheets, or the way my thoughts spun out of control.

Nothing made logical sense but this man. This moment. This heat.

Pleasure climbed in waves, curling through my belly, down my thighs, up my spine. I was unraveling for him, because of him, and he knew it. He moaned softly against me, like he couldn’t get enough, like I was everything he’d ever wanted.

When I came, it was with a cry of his name and a shudder, toes curling, breath catching, heart thundering.

He kissed his way back up, slow and wicked, smiling like a man thoroughly pleased with himself. And when I caught his face between my hands and dragged him up for a kiss, I tasted myself on his lips—and it made me burn for him all over again.

I whispered his name and saw the fire in his eyes as he gently shifted me on top of him. I knew—I was ready to take everything he wanted to give me.

“Fucking gorgeous, Maisy.” His hands framed my hips, as I settled above him. The weight of his gaze made my breath catch, made me feel like the most wanted woman on earth. My thighs bracketed his waist, and I could feel the heat between us pulsing, begging. He moved his hands over me like he was memorizing everything—my curves, the flush of my skin, the tremble in my thighs.

I leaned down to kiss him again—open, hungry, grateful—and he caught my bottom lip between his, sucking lightly before murmuring, “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” I breathed. “Like this.”

He reached between us, fingers finding me slick, ready. I rocked against him, the friction exquisite, our bodies syncing with maddening precision. He groaned low in his throat, and it lit something even deeper inside me.

“God, you’re everything to me,” he rasped, his voice thick.

He gripped himself, guiding to my entrance. I braced my hands on his chest, meeting his eyes. “I want this,” I said clearly. “I want you.”

His powerful hands trembled, showing vulnerability, and gripping my hips. “If it hurts?—”

“It won’t. I trust you.”

I moved slowly, easing him inside me, and he let out a sound that was half-groan, half-prayer. There was a learning curve to this, a long stretch, a sting that made me gasp—but it passed quickly, and what replaced it was something infinitely better.

Filling. Consuming. So right.

Brooks cupped my jaw, his thumb brushing beneath my eye. “Okay?”

I nodded. “So much better than okay.”

I began to move, slowly at first, like my body wasn’t designed to be simply passive in this, but an active participant. Testing. Teasing. Finding the rhythm that matched our breaths, our sighs, our need. He met each roll of my hips with a lift of his own, his hands never still—exploring every inch of me.

“You’re every fantasy, every need and want of mine, every thought I tried to push away,” he whispered, pressing kisses to my chest, my collarbone, the curve of my neck.

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