Page 45 of Relentless Hearts
He leaped off the bed like it was burning. She watched his carved backside as he crossed the room in two strides and yanked open a drawer. In seconds he was back and sheathed. His lips landed on hers a split second before his body cloaked her.
She locked her thighs around him, urging him right where she wanted him.
With a guttural sound, he pushed into her, slow and careful, stretching her until she clutched at his shoulders with a gasp.
When he filled her to the root, he held himself still, letting her adjust, whispering against her lips. “You feel so damn good. So tight around me, love.”
Her body clenched, welcoming him, and when she rolled her hips in a silent plea, he gave her what she needed.
His thrusts were long and deep, each one shaking her to her core, stoking the fire higher. Their gasps and moans tangled and their kisses turned even more desperate as they rocked in a steady rhythm.
Willow’s nails dug into his back, pleasure rising inside her. “Decker! I can’t—”
“You can,” he gritted, pounding harder, his mouth catching her cries. “Come for me, love. I’ve got you.”
She stared into his eyes and shattered around him, her whole body bowing, stars exploding behind her eyes as wave after wave rolled through her. Decker followed with a harsh groan, driving deep, deeper, before spilling into her.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was their ragged breathing. His weight settled on her, comforting, grounding. He kissed her softly, over and over, until her heartbeat slowed.
When he finally lifted his head, his gaze locked on hers, fierce and unguarded. “You’re mine now.”
Her smile trembled, tears pricking her eyes. “I’ve wanted to be yours for a long time.”
He gathered her close, wrapping her in his arms as if nothing—and no one—could ever take her away.
* * * * *
Decker returned from the bathroom and slipped into bed, reaching immediately for Willow.
He skimmed his fingertips over the curve of her waist, drawing lazy circles across her skin. Her cheek lay warm against his chest, and he bent to sweep a kiss over her temple—a slow graze that said all the things he couldn’t put into words.
“Hey,” she whispered, smiling against him.
“Hey,” he murmured back, voice husky with satisfaction and something deeper. His palm spread over her hip, thumb stroking absently. “You okay?”
“More than.” She shifted, gliding her thigh over his. “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”
His chest rumbled with a quiet laugh. “Me either.”
She tipped her face up. In the low lamplight, her eyes were huge, pupils blown, lashes spikey.
He couldn’t stop himself. He touched her mouth with his, just a press, tasting the afterglow still humming between them. When he pulled back, she chased him, giving him one more sip of a kiss that made his body tighten all over again.
She tucked herself closer, drawing idle patterns over the scars laddering his ribs, pausing on each one. He caught her hand and brought her knuckles to his mouth.
Then he stilled. “You’re shaking.”
“Happy shaking.”
He curled onto his side, gathering her in so her back fit his chest and his arm slung heavy over her waist. He pressed his mouth to the tender slope of her shoulder and just breathed her in—body wash and winter air and something that was only her.
They lay like that until the edge of urgency faded into a syrupy warmth. The silence wasn’t empty. It was thick with everything they hadn’t said yet, and everything they already had with hands and bodies and gasped-out pleas.
She rolled onto her back, looking up at him. “Can I tell you something?”
“You can tell me anything.”
“I was nervous,” she admitted. “Not about you. Just…first time with someone who matters. I didn’t want to mess it up. Or rush. Or make you…I don’t know. Feel like I was taking more than I was giving.”
