Page 75 of Conflict
“I don’t have a condom.”
God dammit. My head hits the pillow beside her and I groan into it. I’m nearly desperate enough for her to forgo the protection. She was a virgin and I haven’t been with anyone since her. What’s the worst that can happen? Pregnancy? The idea alone should terrify me. Instead, it has the opposite effect and I grow impossibly hard.
Fuck me. This wedding, Branson’s impending fatherhood—it’s really getting to me.
Her hips once again rise up, and she slides herself along my length.
I lift away from her. “That’s not helping.”
“Oh,” is all she says in response. Then her smile turns mischievous. “Well, I guess you’re lucky I came prepared—”
I jump off the bed with speed an Olympic sprinter would be jealous of before she can even get the words out. “Where?” I ask, desperate to be inside her.
“In my purse.”
I frantically glance around the room, running across to the dresser like a madman. With unceremonious desperation, I dump the entire bag over and hold it up like the most precious prize ever found. Alyssa giggles while I make quick work of sheathing my cock.
And then I fucking pounce.
Her legs immediately wrap around my waist. My cock finds her entrance with expert precision, like a rocket meeting its intended target. The result would be the same: an explosion of epic proportions like the world’s never seen. My lips crash down on hers, and my tongue slips between her parted lips, wanting to devour her. We kiss with desperate longing, and I realize she really has missed this as much as I have.
At this moment, an intense desire to be inside her washes over me. So I pull back, gazing down at the gorgeous girl beneath me. Her dark chocolate hair is fanned out on the pillow, framing her face. The moonlight allows me to see the flush on her cheeks, and masculine pride swells because this desire is just for me. I want to fuck her with the pent-up angst I’ve been feeling since the morning I discovered she’d left the resort. I want to fuck the memory back into her, fuck her until she never wants to leave again.
I didn’t fuck her the first time.
I want to fuck her now.
“Shane,” she pants, her legs trying to pull me closer with feverish desperation. “No foreplay. I need you. I need this. There’s been no one since you. And it’s been far too long.”
The admission’s a victory that has me ready to give in, but I need to know something first.
“Sunshine, tell me. Why’d you leave?”
I know why she left. Her note said as much, yet something tells me she’d been holding something back and I have to know what it was.
She blinks, her eyes unfocused. “You want to talk about this now?”
“I need to know why. So you won’t do it again,” I explain. “Because I can’t lose this again.”
It’s probably more of an admission that I need to give right now. Too late, though, because the words poured out before I could stop them.
“You won’t,” she whispers, and it should be enough.
It’s not.
“Alyssa. If we’re doing this, I need you to tell me. Trust me.”
Her pink tongue darts out to wet her lips as she stalls. Her eyes cloud over, and I can’t miss the hesitation etched on her features.
I have no idea how I keep stock-still, the tip of my cock enveloped in the warmth of her entrance, begging for more. I want to tell her it’s fine. What she’s giving me is enough. But if I want her to trust me, I can’t start lying to her now.
“I was scared,” she finally admits, her eyes not quite meeting mine.
I cup her chin with my palm. “Scared of what?”
She blinks twice before looking up at me. “Of you. Us. The intensity of what I’d felt for you so quickly, a stranger. It wasn’t just sex to me, Shane. What happened that night was so much more. It was…everything. And it terrified me.”
I reclaim her mouth in a long, drugging kiss. Her words are intoxicating, and I can’t wait a second longer. With one agonizingly slow push, I sink into the hot, sweet pleasure that’s Alyssa’s pussy.
