Page 103 of Tangled Like Us
I fight to speak and not just pant, but words…are…gone.
His fingers, the ones against my heat, slip between my folds. He pushes one finger inside of me, and I pulsate.
An overwhelmed, high-pitched moan comes with a sharp gasp. “Yes.”
He pumps his fingers, finding the perfect spot in seconds. His biceps flex.
I soar off another peak, my thighs shaking, drenched in sweat. I grip his wrist, keeping his finger inside of me.
He slips another in.
“Thatcher,” I moan, trying to move and add friction against his hand. I prop up on an elbow, and he sits up slightly off me. Letting me see how his fingers are deep inside of me.
I lift my gaze to him. There is so much more that I desire. So much closer I wish and ache to be.
He wears a similar longing expression. We’ve ripped through restraints, but a giant one still remains intact.
“Jane.” His chest is taut in need. “I want to put my cock in you.”
I clench around his fingers. “I want you to.”
Thatcher has a choice to make, and he does. “Fuck it.” He eyes me strongly. “I’m fucking you.”
Yes, God.I’ve never loved five words more than those. I release my clutch on his wrist.
He kisses me, gathering fire, and then gently pulls his fingers out.
While he shifts back, I drop my feet to the floor and sit on the edge of the mattress. Thatcher towers above me, but I’m at a perfect angle to give him head.
I also really,reallywant to grab his ass.
He unbuttons his slacks, and I tug them down. Dark gray boxer-briefs mold his hard length that is…impressive.
The longer I stare, the more my mouth slowly falls. I can feel him watching me like I just watched him.
My ankles hook around his legs, and I slip my palms down the back of his boxer-briefs. Squeezing his peach-perfect ass with two hands.
“I love your butt,” I say as pointedly as he did.
Light reaches his brown eyes. He expels breath through his nose, pent-up. I can clearly see how badly.
He nods. “I love your voice.”
My stomach flutters. Most people find my constant chatter grating after a while, but he makes me feel so very desired. And safe.
And terribly beautiful.
Thatcher pulls down his boxer-briefs, freeing his rock-hard erection. In stunning view.
He is huge. My jaw is now on the floor. I think my prior estimations were off. I think he may be more than eight-inches.That is about to be inside of me.I ache for more intense pressure.
Thatcher steps out of the boxer-briefs, buck-naked in front of me.
I stroke his length, my hand looking small around his shaft. His abs tighten, a heavier breath concaving his firm chest.
He brushes my sweaty hair off my cheeks, and we lock-eyes while I suck his tip.
A rough groan rumbles in his throat, and he grits down, his nose flaring.
