Page 74 of Love Notes & Lifelines
“One night,” he whispers so softly he probably didn’t even mean to say it out loud. My heart pinches painfully.
Reaching out, I place my palm against his chest, shocked to find it beating so violently. “I get it, Beck. You don’t need me, but you want me—for one night,” I clarify. “I understand.” My spiel would have carried more weight if my voice hadn’t quivered.
His gaze scans back and forth as if he’s speed-reading, but I’ve never seen the book, so I have no idea what he’s fighting in that brilliant mind of his. I do, however, recognize the sadness lurking below the surface.
I’m about to stand and tell him it’s okay, we’re probably better off leaving things as they are, but the second I place my hands on the velvety material beneath me for leverage, his hands dart out to grasp my waist, and he drags me to him.
It happens in a flash. I’m sitting on his chest, facing away from him, and before me is the most rigid penis I’ve ever encountered. His naked skin beneath me makes my body burn hotter than ever before. He’s hard to my soft, rough where I’m smooth, and I revel in the way we fit together.
His dick actually looks painful, but I lose my train of thought when he tugs me down so my back rests against his chest and his hand slides down my stomach to possessively cup my pussy.
I gasp and try to keep my eyes open. I never wanted to be controlled again, but this—this is different—this is me willingly giving him control, and I’ve never been so turned on.
“You have one thing wrong with that assumption, Stella Jane. I can’t need you, and I don’t want to want you. It would make things easier, but that doesn’t appear to be a possibility for me anymore.”
I want to ask what isn’t a possibility, him needing me, wanting me, not wanting to want me, but he leans forward,and it pushes me down his body until his cock bobs against my entrance and he groans into my ear. The combination of his rough sound and the hot air hitting my skin makes my desire uncontrollable.
The second his hardness touches my soft skin we emit sounds that tangle together in a carefully orchestrated symphony.
“Take it, sweetheart. Show me how much you want it.”
So I do, eagerly. I roll my hips, and the tip separates my lower lips. He presses a hand to my back, urging me to rock forward, and he slides in another inch, then two.
“Show me how you move, baby girl. Show me what you need.”
Placing my hands on his thighs, I shift my weight, trying to sink down to the root of him, but he’s too big. I’m forced to take him in short thrusts that coat him in my arousal.
He’s so damn thick.
When I’m finally fully seated, I twist my hips in a circular motion and he lurches forward, almost knocking me off him. But one of his hands holds my hips steady, while his other splays open across my collarbone, molding me to him. His warm breath tickles the back of my neck and the top of my spine.
The light flickering up from the staircase casts us in an orange glow, and I love how his tanned skin looks splayed across my fair chest. His cock pulses inside me, hitting just the right spot, and a sound I’ve never made before claws its way free from my throat. It’s the sound of desperation—that’s the only way to describe it.
The heat of his body presses into my back and he moves my hips in a sinfully delicious circular motion. First one way, then the other. It’s slow, and sensual, and he reaches so far inside me I swear he’s marked every organ as his own.
“Jesus, I’m in favor of what you need, baby. It’s so fucking good.” His voice is clear and strong. It doesn’t carry the guttural sound it did downstairs, and it hits me in a way it shouldn’t. It lances my heart and ties it together in a pretty bow with his name on it.
I’m screwed.
“But now,” he growls, “it’s my turn.”
My head rests on his left shoulder, and he tilts my chin so his gaze can lock onto mine. There’s something dark in his eyes that I don’t understand but trust anyway. I nod against his skin and wait for his next move.
His feet hit the floor and without warning, and he thrusts his cock deep, stealing my breath and a few more pieces of my heart.
“Lift up,” he says, tapping my thighs. I spread wider around him and plant my feet flat on the bed for leverage with my hands on either side of his waist, then lift myself over him while he remains lodged deep within me—part of me.
I lift and he follows. I bend and so does he. We move as one. One body. One soul. It’s a connection we shouldn’t have, but I’m helpless to fight it. I glance over my shoulder and his gaze bores into mine. A million truths pass in that fraction of a second before he clenches his eyes closed, shutting me out.
With the next upward thrust, he takes over. He drives into my body as though I’ve always been his destination. In and out over and over again. The wet sounds of sex and skin hitting skin make my nipples pebble, and he grunts each time our bodies connect.
The scent of our sex is sweet. It’s something that’s always felt strange or taboo to me before, but with Beck, I want to bask in it. I want to wear it like a badge so he’ll always remember how good we are together.
With a brutal thrust, my gaze lowers to where we’re joined. I see how his hardness parts my lips and disappears inside of me.And when he pulls out, the evidence of us has me anxious for a taste of him.
I lost my breath ten thrusts ago. I gasp and moan. Tears leak from my eyes. I’ve never been fucked this way. Not once in almost thirty years has anyone made me feel so much with so few words. My boobs feel heavy and full. My heart is like a runaway train. In this moment he owns me—and I allowed it—I crave it.
His heavy arm lays across my abdomen before his hand snakes down to my pussy. With two rough fingers, he slides into me, adding to the fullness of his cock already buried deep, and he takes me to the precipice of heaven while the fingers of his free hand pinch, roll, and strum against my burning clit.
