Page 9 of Texas
Kissing her again, I let my body settle between her thighs. Her hands push my shirt up and over my head, and I toss it aside before cupping her breasts again, rolling her nipples between my fingers until she moans into my mouth. She arches up into me, her skin hot and slick beneath my palms.
“Nightstand,” she whispers against my lips. “Top drawer.”
After reaching over blindly, fingers fumbling for the handle, I pull it open. Inside, nestled between a bottle of lube and a few other surprises, is a sleek violet silicone dildo with a curved base. Perfect. I slick it up with a bit of lube and turn back to her. She’s already spread out on the bed, one knee bent, her eyes dark and hungry.
“You sure?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
Nodding, she bites her bottom lip. “I want to feel it. I want to feel you.” I climb between her legs, bracing myself on one forearm, and press the tip of the dildo against her entrance. Her breath catches, her fingers curling in the sheets. I watch her face as I push it in, slow and steady, until she’s full and gasping. “Oh fuck,” she breathes.
I thrust shallowly at first, one hand gripping her hip, the other working the toy in and out of her, twisting at just the right angle. She cries out, her head tipping back, her body rising to meet every stroke. I lean down and suck her nipple into my mouth as I fuck her, hard and deep, the way she clearly likes it. Her hands claw at my back, her thighs trembling. “Reggie. Yes, don’t stop.”
I don’t. I stroke her with the toy, sliding my thumb up to her clit to move it in tight circles. Her whole body jerks, her voice rising, desperate, undone.
“Oh my God. That feels so fucking—” She doesn’t finish the sentence. She doesn’t need to. She explodes beneath me, her body convulsing, her scream echoing off the walls as she comes hard, soaking the sheets, the toy, my hand. I slow down only when her cries turn to whimpers, and her body goes limp beneath mine. I pull the dildo out carefully, watching her shiver as the last waves roll through her. Her eyes flutter open, dazed and glassy. “You’re trying to kill me,” she whispers.
I grin, breathless. My own need claws at me, sharp and urgent. I toss the dildo aside and I roll onto my back, slipping my hand under the waistband of my shorts. My clit’s already throbbing, my body so close from everything that came before. I work my clit in tight, desperate circles.
Kristin watches, still panting, her eyes wide and dark. “God, you’re hot,” she says, voice thick with awe and lust. She crawls over to me, her mouth hot on my nipples, her fingers strokingmy thighs, her voice in my ear. “Come for me,” she says. “Let me see you fall apart.”
And I do. My body arches off the bed, my muscles locking, my orgasm crashing through me like a storm breaking over the lake. I moan, loud and guttural, my fingers of one hand digging into the sheets while I keep stroking with the other. I ride it out, gasping, trembling, until everything goes soft and slow again. We collapse together, tangled in the sheets, sticky and breathless and utterly wrecked. Kristin curls into me, her head on my chest, her fingers tracing lazy lines over my stomach. “Stay the night,” she murmurs, and for tonight, I wrap an arm around her, pull her close.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Seven
Iwake to the early morning light filtering in through gauzy curtains, and for a long moment, I only lie there. Still. Breathing. The bed smells like sex. Like skin and sweat and sleep. Kristin is curled into me, her leg slung across my thigh, one hand resting just beneath my breast, possessive even in sleep. Her breath is slow and even, her chest rising and falling against my arm, and her skin is soft against mine. There’s a curl of dark hair stuck to her cheek, and I want to reach over and brush it away, but I don’t because this is the kind of morning that feels dangerous.
Staring at the ceiling, I feel that old itch already crawling in under my skin. The one that whispers things like “Don’t get used to this. Don’t let it mean something.” I slide my arm out from under her slowly, carefully. She stirs but doesn’t wake. The sheet falls away from my chest as I sit up, the cool air brushing my nipples, tightening them instantly. My T-shirt and shorts are on the floor beside the bed. I can be gone in sixty seconds. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, feet finding the hardwood.
“You were gonna sneak out, weren’t you?”
Her voice is sleep-rough and low, soaked in the kind of intimacy that makes my gut twist. I turn slowly. She’s proppedup on one elbow now, watching me, hair a wild mess around her face. Her eyes are dark and unreadable, but there’s no anger there, only curiosity and a little amusement. And maybe something else I don’t want to name.
“I was thinking about it,” I say honestly because I don’t want to lie to her, especially not with her looking at me like that.
Kristin stretches, slow and unbothered, like a cat in sunlight. The sheet slips off her shoulder, revealing the soft curve of her breast, and the dip of her waist. She doesn’t cover herself. She doesn’t need to, and she radiates confidence in every inch of her body, and fuck me, she’s gorgeous. “That’s a shame,” she murmurs. “I was planning to make it worth your while to stay.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
She nods, and it’s the slow kind. The kind that makes my pulse throb in places that haven’t come down from last night yet. “Come back to bed, soldier.”
It’s the soft command in her voice that does it. The way she says it like she already knows I will, and she’s right. I slide back under the covers, and the second I do, she’s on me. Her mouth finds mine, hot and hungry, and I kiss her back like I’ve been starving for her all night. Her hands are everywhere. My ribs, my hips, my ass. Pulling me closer, dragging me into her heat. I groan against her lips and roll her onto her back. She spreads for me without hesitation, thighs falling open, and I slide between them like I belong there. And right now, I do.
I trail kisses down her neck and then suck gently on that spot right below her ear that makes her gasp. Her skin tastes like sleep and sex and something sweet I can’t place. My hand moves between her legs, and Jesus, she’s already soaked. I slide two fingers through her heat, teasing her clit with the pad of my thumb, and her hips buck off the bed.
“Yes…” she gasps, breath catching. “Just like that.”
Slipping two fingers inside her, I move them. She’s tight and hot, pulsing around me like she’s been waiting for this all along. Her back arches, her hands fisting the sheets, and I press deeper, brushing that spot inside her that makes her cry out. She’s fucking perfect like this. Open and writhing, her body begging for more, her voice thick and desperate in my ear. I thrust harder, faster, my thumb circling her clit in time with my strokes. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, her thighs shaking around my wrist.
“Fuck,” she moans. “I’m so close.”
“Let go,” I whisper, lips brushing her jaw. “I’ve got you.”
And she does. She comes hard, crying out my name, her whole body locking up and then unraveling in waves. I hold her through it, never stopping, fucking her until she’s trembling and breathless, her body slick with sweat and pleasure. When she finally collapses against the mattress, her skin flushed and glowing, I slide my fingers out gently and kiss her. Her lips are soft against mine. “Jesus,” she murmurs. “You’re dangerous.”
I grin, a little breathless myself. “You have no idea.” The words come easy, but something about the way she looks at me, like she wants to peel back every layer, makes me want to say more. But I don’t and instead, I just follow where she leads. She’s still panting, but there’s a wicked gleam in her eye. Without a word, she grabs my hand and pulls me out of bed, laughing as she tugs me toward the bathroom. I follow. The master bath is all stone and glass, sleek and modern like something out of a magazine. The shower is massive, a full wall of glass with a rainfall head and jets built into the tile. She steps in first and steam curls around her like something out of a dream. Her body is bare and beautiful, curves and muscle, soft skin and sharp edges. I can’t stop staring. Kristin turns and holds out her hand. “Get in here, soldier.”
I don’t need to be asked twice. The water hits me hot and hard, sluicing over my skin, and I groan as it loosens the last of the tension in my shoulders. Kristin steps in close, her hands slick with soap, and starts to lather me up. Her touch is slow, teasing, sliding over my shoulders and the muscles in my arms. She cups my breasts, thumbs brushing my nipples until I gasp.
