Page 119 of Fighting Spirit

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she pants.

I make quick work of the rest of our clothes and place hot kisses down her spine, only stopping to grab a condom from my bedside table.

Once I’m safe, I return to her, wrapping both arms around her waist in an effort to get her as close as possible.

“Please,” she moans into the mattress, fists bunched beside her. I don’t need any more encouragement and press in, my forehead finding a home in the dip between her shoulder blades.

God, I’ll never get tired of this, never stop wanting her, never stop feeling this desperate, clawing urge for her.

I’m so fuckin’ done for, and I don’t give a damn.

We move together, Ruth bucking back into me as I match her pace. Her skin turns dewy from my breath as I push harder, trying to get deeper. The noises she’s making, the way she moves and clutches at the sheets, drives me higher and higher until I can’t hold on anymore.

I reach down between her legs, determined to get her there before I fall over the edge. With slow circles of her clit, she starts making unintelligible sounds as she pulses under my hand, her climax overtaking her. It doesn’t take long until I’m with her, the two of us collapsing onto the bed.

I roll us so I’m not crushing her, but keep her pressed against me, nuzzling my face into the back of her neck as I breathe in that coconut scent from her shampoo. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes,” she mumbles dazedly, “but I don’t know if it’s the lesson you were trying to teach.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

RUTH

Iknow the moment Rowan wakes from the crease that forms between his brows. His skin is soft under my fingertips and I trace the line of his nose, the soft bow of his lips, the slight scruff of his stubble. I wait for him to open his eyes, to greet me with those dark blue irises that make my whole day, but his eyelids just scrunch deeper.

I giggle, loving this grouchy, sleepy Rowan, but a low groan escapes from somewhere in the back of his throat. That’s not sleepy, that’s pain.

“Rowan?” I whisper.

I get a grunt back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he grumbles into his pillow.

I roll my eyes.

“Sure.” I prop myself up on an elbow to lean over him. “I can tell from all the scowling and groaning that you’re a-okay.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

“I know.” I smile, dropping a kiss on his cheek. “Tell me what’s wrong anyway.”

“Just a twinge.”

I sit up, looking down at the curve of his spine. “Your back?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, finally giving in. “It’s a little tight after the game.”

“Do you need to go see a trainer?” Small injuries like this are common for someone playing at his level, but he needs to get it looked after if he wants to avoid it getting worse.

“No,” he huffs. “Just give me a minute.”

He goes to roll over, but when I see the way his face contorts, I grab his shoulder and gently push him back down.

“I’m fine.” His voice is muffled by the pillow.

“Do you have any heat rub?”