Page 79 of These White Lies
Until Brady pushes up into me, slow and deliberate.
My breath catches with the delicious burn as he stretches me, inch by inch. His hand stays braced at my ribs, a protective hold keeping pressure off my side, controlling the movement even though I’m on top.
He leans back just enough to drag his lips along my throat, over the ridge of my collarbone, and down to the swell of my breast. His tongue and lips work my body in lazy sensual patterns causing sensation to coil tight inside me again.
I’m so full, I can feel him everywhere. Each deep glide and subtle shift he makes inside me sends sparks up my spine. I roll my hips, changing the angle, chasing that deep friction that turns my body molten.
My palms press into the hard planes of his shoulders, fingers curling for leverage. Sweat slicks between us, our skin sliding as he meets my movements with slow, controlled thrusts from below. Brady’s fingers flex against my back, the strength in his grip a constant reminder that if I slip, he’ll catch me.
Broken words of encouragement and praise rumble against my skin. “You’re so perfect like this,” he groans, thrusting harder, deeper than before. “Every fucking inch of you.”
His hand slides down, slipping between us with unerring precision, circling my clit with a firm pressure that rips a helpless sound from my throat.
“Come for me. My beautiful, bright flickering light.”
Those words.Knowing he remembers the details of our one night together—that it must have meant as much to him—hits me hard, emotion and pleasure flooding my senses. My body shakes as the orgasm hits me hard, and he tightens his hold on me, even as his hips lose the controlled rhythm of before. White-hot lights flash behind my eyes, and my nails bite into his shoulders, clinging to him as it pulses through me.
Brady curses low, the sound vibrating in my chest where we are pressed together. His grip on my hip tightens almost painfully as he thrusts up into me twice more, deep and claiming. He groans, pulling me flush against him, as his release shudders through his body.
For a long moment, there’s nothing but the sound of our breathing and the thudding of our hearts in our chests. He buries his face in the curve of my neck as he pants against my skin.
He brushes the damp hair back from my forehead, and presses a kiss to my temple. “You okay?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah.” I exhale, sinking against him as he lowers his back to the bed, taking me with him. “More than okay.”
His arms tighten around me, holding me carefully as I slump bonelessly across his chest.
After a few minutes, he eases me gently to my side and disappears into the bathroom, returning with two warm washcloths. “You still can’t shower without your apparatus, and we didn’t bring your supplies.” His lips twitch as he wipes the cloth over my skin.
“You’d make an excellent nurse. Ten out of ten for the sponge bath.” I smile up at him feeling completely relaxed for the first time in years.
He smirks at me before disappearing back into the bathroom, where I hear the water turn on again. When he returns, Brady pulls on his boxer-briefs, and gestures for me to scoot to the far side of the bed so that he is closest to the door.
“That’s disappointing,” I murmur sleepily, reaching behind me to pluck at his waistband.
He presses a kiss to the back of my head. “They can come off again whenever you’re ready. But in the meantime, I prefer not to fight with my dick out in case we get a visitor.”
And just like that, reality seeps back in.
“We could have had a visitor before,” I point out.
Brady nuzzles into my hair. “Dying inside you would have been worth it.”
He must have felt my body tense, because he kisses my temple before saying, “It’s just a precaution, Firefly. You don’t need to worry. I won’t let anyone ever hurt you again.”
The humidity is already thickwhen we step out of the hotel in the morning even though the sun is barely up. The cobblestoned streets are still quiet, waiting for the rest of the city to wakeup. Only a few tourists are up with us, lazily strolling with cups of coffee in their hands, peeking in the windows of the closed shops.
Brady’s hand finds mine instantly. He keeps me close, the warm weight of his palm against mine, grounding me as we cut through the empty city blocks. He’s so calm, I can almost forget there are people hunting me.
Almost.
“That’s our ride,” he says after a few minutes, pulling me behind a souvenir kiosk and lifting his chin toward a small silver SUV parked under the branches of a huge crepe myrtle.
“What about our things? My computer?”
“Our guys picked up the other vehicle when they dropped this one off.” He smiles at me. “Never fear, your computer is safe and sound back at headquarters waiting for you to conquer the world.”
I pinch him but he only chuckles. Before we step into the open, his body goes subtly rigid, a shift I’m coming to recognize. It’s not fear, but a sharpening awareness. Strangely, it doesn’t make me nervous. It actually makes me feel safer.
