Page 37 of Wicked Chains
His hands slide up my thighs. "That makes us even."
I grab his wrists this time, pinning them above his head the way he did to me, leaning down until our faces are inches apart. "No more disappearing without a word."
His eyes darken. "I can't promise that."
"Try harder," I insist, tightening my grip on his wrists.
In a move I don't see coming, he flips us over, reversing our positions so that he's above me, his body pressing mine into the mattress.
I pull him down to me, kissing him deeply, letting my body say what words can't.
His hands slide under my tank top, fingers tracing lacy patterns on my skin that make me shiver. I tug at his shirt, wanting it gone, wanting nothing between us. He obliges, sitting back on his heels to pull it over his head. I take the opportunity to remove my own top, tossing it somewhere on the floor.
Drake's eyes roam over my bare breasts, hungry and appreciative. "You're beautiful," he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss between my breasts.
"You're not so bad yourself," I reply, running my hands over his shoulders, his hard chest, real but not living.
When he closes his lips around my nipple, I gasp. He sucks, slow, then fast, flicking his tongue in that way that drives me crazy, and my body answers him, melting, tightening, needy, wet. My hips rock against him, searching for more friction, more him.
He trails a path down my stomach with his lips, making my muscles jump and twitch beneath his touch. When he reaches the waistband of my shorts, he looks up at me, a question in his eyes.
I nod, lifting my hips to help as he slides them down my legs. The cool air hits my skin, but I'm so hot that it's a turn-on rather than a discomfort.
Drake moves back up my body, his lips finding mine again as his hand slides between my thighs. I whimper against his mouth as his fingers explore me, finding exactly the right spot to make my back arch off the bed.
"Still want me to leave?" he asks, his voice rough.
"Shut up," I tell him, reaching between us to unfasten his trousers, pushing them down his hips.
He kicks them off the rest of the way, then settles between my thighs, the hard length of him pressing against me. "Rose," he says.
I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer. "Please," I whisper.
Drake braces himself on one elbow, his other hand guiding himself to my entrance. He pushes inside slowly, filling me inch by inch until I'm panting, my hands gripping his shoulders.
"God," I breathe as he begins to move, setting a rhythm that has me seeing stars. "You feel so good."
His only response is a groan as he buries his face in my neck, his hips moving against mine in a dance as old as time. I match his movements, lifting to meet each thrust, my body chasing the pleasure only he can give me.
We move together, the earlier anger transforming into something else, something primal and necessary. His hands are everywhere, mine exploring every inch of him I can reach. Our kisses grow messier, more desperate as the tension builds.
"Drake," I gasp as he hits a spot deep inside me that makes my vision blur. "Right there. Don't stop."
He increases the pace, his movements becoming more urgent. One of his hands slides between us, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves that makes me cry out. "Come for me," he urges.
The combination of his words, his touch, and the relentless rhythm of his hips sends me over the edge. I shatter into a thousand pieces beneath him, my body arching as wave afterwave of my orgasm crashes over me. He follows moments later, his face straining beautifully as he finds his own release.
Afterward, we lie together, my head on his chest, his arm around me, as my breathing gradually slows, returning to normal. The quiet of the room settles around us.
"I missed you," I admit softly, linking my fingers with his.
His arm tightens around me. "I missed you too. More than you know."
I lift my head to look at him. "Are you okay? Really?"
Something sad passes over his face, so quickly I almost miss it. "I'm here with you," he says, which isn't really an answer. "That's all that matters right now."
I want to push, to demand the truth, but I'm tired of fighting. And I'm afraid of what the truth might be. So I lay my head back on his chest, listening to the silence where a heartbeat should be.
