Page 147 of Bottle Shock
He presses his mouth to my shoulder, a groan dragged from his chest.
“Let go,” he breathes against my skin. “Come on my cock.”
It’s a whole-body collapse—heat and light and shaking and breathless, my knees giving out and my head falling forward into the sheets. He holds me through it, his arm keeping me from slipping, his hips still moving as he fucks me through the waves.
He pulls out slowly, hands steadying my hips as he does, guiding me gently down onto my side. He lies behind me immediately, chest to my back, arms wrapped around.
He presses a kiss to my shoulder, tightening the hold around my waist until there’s no space left between us.
Our skin is damp, slick with sweat and lube, our breaths still uneven—we’re a mess.
A beautiful fucking mess.
CHAPTER 40
Gavin
WE SHOULD PROBABLY TALK
Ifeel like I got hit by a truck.
Scottie is sleeping soundly, curled around me.
But my body aches.
Last night was something else entirely. Sex is always good with Scottie—it’s always more than just sex—but I’m pretty certain we shifted the planets or changed the tides or caused some sort of damage because it was fucking earth shattering.
Or maybe I’m just that far gone, so fucking in love with this girl.
Her breath is warm against my chest, her leg thrown over mine, hair a mess across the pillow and my shoulder. I should be exhausted but my brain is wide awake, replaying every second of last night in loops.
I don’t think I’ll ever recover from that.
I brush a strand of hair off her forehead, careful not to wake her. Her nose scrunches a little and she nuzzles back into me
She sighs in her sleep, fingers flexing against my ribs.
I kiss her again, slower this time, right where her temple meets her hairline.
She stirs, eyelashes fluttering, “Mmm.”
“Morning.”
She stretches, a soft full-body movement, then buries her face deeper against my chest. “Were you staring at me while I slept?”
“Yes.”
She giggles into my skin. “It’s like you’re obsessed with me, or something.”
“Glad you finally noticed.”
I feel her smile as she rest against me.
“So, last night was fun,” I stay, putting a feeler out to see how she’s doing.
She’s silent for a beat and my stomach drops, worried that it was painful or she’s too sore or that I hurt her.
“It was okay,” she says finally.
