Page 74 of Most Likely to Deny Love

I couldn’t form words, could only clutch at his shoulders as the delicious fullness of him inside me sent sparks of renewed pleasure through my sensitized body. When he began to move, shallow thrusts that gradually deepened, I thought I might die from the perfection of it.

His pace was measured, controlled, each stroke designed to drive me higher without rushing toward completion. His eyes never left mine, the intensity of his gaze adding another layer toour connection. One of his hands slid between us, thumb circling my clit in time with his thrusts.

“Jack,” I gasped, feeling the tension building once more. “Please.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised, his movements becoming more purposeful. “Come for me again, Mia.”

The change in angle, the increased pressure of his thumb, the way he whispered my name like a prayer, it all combined to send me hurtling over the edge for a second time. My body clenched around him, drawing a guttural groan from deep in his chest.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, never stopping his movements as I rode the wave. “So fucking beautiful.”

Before I’d fully recovered, he shifted us, rolling onto his back without breaking our connection. I found myself straddling him, his hands guiding my hips as I adjusted to the new position.

“Take what you need,” he urged, his voice rougher now, his control clearly slipping.

The power of being on top, of setting the pace, sent a thrill through me. I began to move, finding a rhythm that had us both gasping. Jack’s hands roamed my body, cupping my breasts, thumbs teasing my nipples, before sliding down to where we were joined.

He found my clit again, his touch exactly what I needed to spiral toward a third climax. I rode him harder, faster, chasing the building pleasure even as I watched his face for signs of his own approaching release.

“Mia,” he warned, his muscles tensing beneath me. “I can’t hold back much longer.”

“Then don’t,” I urged, grinding down against him. “Come with me, Jack.”

His thumb pressed more firmly against my clit, and that was all it took. I shattered one final time, crying out his name as ecstasy washed over me. Jack followed an instant later, his hipsbucking up into mine, his groan of completion the most erotic sound I’d ever heard.

I collapsed onto his chest, our bodies slick with sweat, our breathing ragged as we came down together. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as if he couldn’t bear for there to be any space between us.

When I could finally form coherent thoughts again, I lifted my head to look at him. His eyes were dark and satisfied, like he was taking immense pride in my disheveled state. And hey, I could hardly blame him.

“Worth the wait?” His voice was low and confident, as though he already knew the answer.

I smiled, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Almost. But I think we might need to practice a few more times to be sure.”

His answering laugh rumbled through his chest. “Whatever you need, Mia. Whatever you need.”

With Jack’s arms around me and sleep slowly claiming me, I realized something profound: I’d never felt so completely, perfectly myself as I did in this moment. Not because Jack had given me multiple earth-shattering orgasms, but because with him, I didn’t need to hide, to shrink, to be anything other than exactly who I was.

At some point, I was going to have to examine what that meant.

JACK

Iwoke to the feeling of Mia’s curves pressed against me, her breath warm on my chest, one leg thrown over mine. The late afternoon light filtered through the gauzy curtains, painting golden stripes across the tangled sheets. I glanced down at her sleeping face, watching the gentle rise and fall of her breath, the slight part of her lips.

Fuck, she was beautiful.

My body responded instantly to her proximity, hardening against her thigh. Three times already and I still wanted her with an intensity that surprised me. I’d expected sex with Mia to be good, but nothing had prepared me for the reality of having her beneath me, around me, the sounds she made when she came.

I shifted slightly, my hand trailing down the curve of her spine. Her skin was impossibly soft, warm from sleep and our earlier activities. I traced the dip at the small of her back, remembering how she’d arched up when I’d touched her there earlier, how responsive she was to every stroke of my fingers, my tongue.

Mia stirred against me, making a small sound in her throat as she pressed closer. I glanced at the clock. If we were going to make our dinner reservation, we needed to get moving.

“Mia,” I murmured, my voice rough with sleep and lingering desire. “Time to wake up.”

She burrowed closer, her nose pressed to my chest. “Five more minutes.”

“We have reservations,” I reminded her, though the idea of canceling them to stay in bed was becoming more appealing by the second.

“Where?” Her voice was muffled against my skin.

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