Page 182 of Into These Eyes
“Fuck.” He drops his forehead to mine. “I hate the thought of hurting you.”
“It’ll hurt more if you don’t.” I roll my hips, showing him with my body that I mean it. “Please.”
His eyes hold mine as he eases inside me a little more, and I tense. I know it’s not him, that it’s my body remembering the last time, remembering the pain.
“J … it’s me. Just me. You know who I am. The man who loves you, worships you, adores you. Relax. We’re made for each other. Your body just needs to learn how to take me.”
His gentle words, the look in his eyes, reminds me how much I trust him. And now he’s patiently waiting for his words to sink in. And they are. I relax. Everywhere.
Warmth and relief shine from his eyes. “Good girl. Now give me your hands.”
When I rest them above my head, he slips his fingers between mine, the intimacy of his hold and our locked gaze, sends heat rushing between my legs. I let out a long breath, and smile.
“There’s my J,” he murmurs. Rocking forward, he sinks deeper with each gentle thrust. It burns a little, but the feel of him moving inside me eclipses everything.
I squeeze his hands and moan, my back arching, my hips reaching for more.
Studying me with intensity, his fingers tighten on mine. “Fuck, J. You feel so … fucking … wonderful.”
“So do you, Gavin. So do you.”
“I’m only halfway there.”
Before I take in what he means, he flexes his hips and sinks all the way home. Electricity sparks through my entire body, and I gasp, “Did you feel that?”
Motionless, buried deep inside me, his gaze never leaving mine, he murmurs, “Like a goddamn power-surge between us.” Eyes blazing with heat, his control barely restrained, he asks, “You okay?”
“I’m more than okay. You feel like … I don’t know … like I’m filled with you. Not just here,” I breathe, raising my hips, “but in my head … and my heart.”
Emotion simmers in his gaze as he withdraws, then strokes all the way back in. “You’re … you’re everywhere, J. All around me.”
Then there’s no more need for words. We say everything with our bodies, our eyes and our lips.
Moving with slow, deliberate thrusts, his pelvis rubs against my clit in a perfect, slippery rhythm. As my breasts roll beneath his chest, the feel of all that naked skin and muscle pressing and sliding against me, forces me to just be in the moment.
Along with all the unfamiliar sounds of sex that are new music to my ears, our moans and ragged breaths fill the room, drawing me closer and closer to another orgasm.
Sensing it, he eases out of me and braces himself on his hands.
“Gavin?” I whimper.
“Getting too close.” Kissing his way down my neck, he palms a breast and brushes his thumb over my nipple. “And I want to see it all when you come on my dick.”
My face and body catch fire. Clearly, the more turned on he is, the dirtier his mouth gets. And I love it.
When he latches onto my nipple, I raise my head, wanting to see, too. I watch, fascinated by the way his cheeks hollow as he draws me in, the way his long eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. Catching me, he holds my gaze, runs the tip of his tongue around my areola, then flicks my nipple.
This time it’s me who groans, “Fuck.”
Letting out a deep, rough grumble of satisfaction, he kneels between my spread thighs and rests back on his heels.
My gaze sweeps over him, taking in those muscled shoulders, the rapid rise and fall of his broad chest. And those lean abs leading down to that enticing line of dark hair partially blocked by his erection.
And, oh God, is it a sight. Shiny with my arousal, his cock stands tall and proud, veins bulging along the shaft, the bulbous head dripping. Before I can reach out and wrap my fingers around it, he slides his hands under my backside and hauls my arse up onto his thighs, spreading me wider.
“Look at you,” I say in awe, trying to figure out where to put my hands.
Leaning forward, he cups my face. “I’ve got nothing on you, J. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”
