Page 68 of Black Sheep

Her warm gush drenches my cock and balls. The decadent suction when I thrust back inside propels me to the edge.

“Yes. Oh, yes. Fuck!” Stars explode across my vision. Sweet Jesus, the intensity of it, of her.

I want…no, need her closer. Picking her up, I stalk out of the shower and into the bedroom. We fall, wet and irreparably altered, onto my childhood bed. Still connected but destined never to fit.

I punch every extraneous thought away and ride the rapture sizzling up my spine. Her hands move from my arms to my shoulders, into my hair. Nails drag across my scalp, and a groan tears free.

Her legs are spread wide. I press one knee into the bed and slam into her. My teeth grit, unable to get over how hot, how glorious, she is. “Damn, you’re so small. Tight as a fucking fist.”

A glazed look enters her eyes. “You…fill me up.”

“Not enough, baby. Not nearly enough,” I reply, my voice a useless croak. I have more to give but any more and I risk hurting her. I have too many plans for her to allow that.

But what she can take, I give in abundance. Until her breaths begin to fracture. Until her arms fall back and her head thrashes on the bed. “I feel…I think I’m coming….oh.”

A firm grip in her hair halts the frenzied move, centering her for my attention. “Stay still, baby. Breathe.”

Her panting escalates. “I can’t.” Her face contorts as I spread both knees and plow into her. “Oh God.”

“Let go, Cleo. Look at me and give me what I want.”

Her mouth parts on a final O of bliss. Then wild, sweet convulsions jerk through her body. I feel her climax rippling along my length, her muscles squeezing in ever tightening circles until she explodes.

“Fuck,” I groan. White heat flares across every single nerve ending. Glorious pressure pulls in my balls for a deliciously long moment. Then I erupt like a fucking fire hose.

I’m drained in seconds, my mind firing with a million stars before it goes blissfully blank. I come to with my face buried in her shoulder, our bodies lying side by side. I’m still embedded in her. Despite knowing there are other, important, things to tend to now the sex is out of the way, I continue to lie there, on familiar yet alien sheets, her soft weight in my arms, my pulse still wild.

“Axel…”

I tense, instinct warning me I won’t like what she has to say.

“Breakfast,” I preempt her. “I’ll order room service.” I keep a team of chefs on the premises so food can be easily taken care of.

She shakes her head. “Not hungry. Too tired. Later,” she murmurs, her voice slurring.

No. Answers. You need answers.

“Cleo.”

But she’s already asleep. I grit my teeth and pull out of her. She shudders and moans in her sleep but doesn’t wake.

And in the early morning light, I drop back next to her, my mind teeming with even more questions.

Chapter Eighteen

TOTAL RECALL

Despite the languid exhaustion prowling through me, I don’t fall asleep next to her. For one thing, sleep is the furthest thing from my mind. For another, I don’t trust myself on so many levels when it comes to her.

Hell, even now I can’t tear my gaze off her. Impossibly, she’s more gorgeous in sleep. Maybe it’s because I can’t see her eyes, can’t hear that voice that promised to take care of me for Finnan. With her gloriously rich hair damp and just-fucked messy, her long lashes fanning her cheeks and her face devoid of makeup, I search for a whisper of the semi-innocent, sexy, shy girl I once knew.

Had she ever been there? Was it all a cover?

She gives a low moan and mumbles something in her sleep. My name? His name?

The renewed churning in my brain launches me out of bed. I sit on the edge, teeth gritted tight against the need to growl. Or wake her to demand answers to the questions plaguing me.

The hand I reach out to do just that hovers over her shoulder for a long second before I change direction and tug the covers over her.

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