Page 117 of Better Hate than Never

I nod quickly, as his hand slides lower down my back, his fingertips tracing the dimples at either side of my spine, right above my backside.

“These,” he says softly, his mouth trailing my jaw, below my ear, where his voice is dark and hushed. “When you gave me a taste of my own medicine at the apartment, took off your shirt, and made sure I saw your topless back—”

“Not my most rational moment.”

He grins against my skin and groans. “A back and two butt dimples have never been so erotic. You have no idea how muchI’ve stroked off to that memory—your back and waist and those dimples—all the ways I’ve had you in my mind, pleased you, made you scream my name.”

My body moves reflexively against him. I feel wet between my thighs, a sweet, fierce ache building from touching him, from the words he’s saying.

“I like knowing that,” I tell him. “I like it when you tell me.”

He brushes a knuckle against my hardened nipple, kissing me gently. “I can tell.”

“I want you to touch me.” I take his hand and set it between my thighs. “Please.”

Christopher stares down at me as he tenderly parts my legs and strokes between them. “I want to touch you, too.”

I gasp and bite my lip against a noise that’s stuck in my throat, loud and uninhibited. He’s so gentle, so attentive, watching me.

“Tell me, Kate,” he says quietly.

“Faster,” I whisper. “Harder.”

I reach down and guide his hand, showing him what I’ve learned about myself, what I recognize has built my arousal in the past and yet don’t recognize at all. Because it’s different, when you show someone else your nakedness, your need; when they cherish and protect it by listening like he does, groaning in quiet pleasure as my hand falls away because he’s doing what I showed him, and I can’t do anything but lie there and grip his arm, his hair, his chest, as he kisses me and makes me fall apart.

As he kisses me, touches me, pleasure spirals through me like a vortex, swirling from the edges of my limbs to the heart of me, and culminates in a sharp, fast release that makes me whimper against his kiss.

“Christ,” he groans as he brings me with him, easing onto his back. He kisses me slowly, brushes his knuckles along my cheek,and I wedge my leg over his, feeling my body both sensitized and already needy for more.

Our eyes meet. His are tight, his expression almost pained.

“What is it?” I ask.

Christopher sighs against my mouth, shifting restlessly as my leg works itself higher over his, as my hand lands on his stomach and drifts down, over that trail of hair that leads to his erection, thick and hard, arced tight against his stomach. “I nearly came from touching you right now,” he says. “And Ijustcame.”

“That’s good?”

He smiles down at me. “It’s a little disconcerting. First I came in your hand after two minutes. Now this. I have to demonstrate my sexual prowess atsomepoint.”

I can tell he’s being lighthearted by the way his eyes warm as they look at me, the way his hand affectionately rubs circles on my back. I like that we can joke while we do this, that it’s not all long stares and intense emotions. Our laughter is like a life float, when I’m nearly drowning in all the feelings flooding me.

“Your sexual prowess, what you’ve learned from being with... others,” I tell him, fighting a vicious stab of jealousy. “I don’t say this as judgment—I don’t think I could ever want or do that. I don’t understand it.”

His thumb circles my palm. “I know. Which is why I feel very lucky, very... honored, that you want it with me.”

A weird little lump settles in my throat. “After all you’ve experienced—”

“Kate,” he pleads.

“—will you want only me? Day in and day out, will I be enough?”

His eyes search mine, so intent. Then he leans in, kissing me softly, his nose nuzzling mine. “You think once I had you, I’d ever want another soul? When I had your eyes and your touch and yoursmart mouth and your vicious races that remind me how damn old I’m getting, that I’d ever look at another and want anyone but you?”

I bite my lip, feeling it wobbling. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he mutters. A muscle jumps in his jaw. His eyes darken as he draws me closer. “Katerina Elizabeth, I told you I’m yours for as long as you’d have me, and I meant it. Tell me you believe me. Tell me you trust me.”

Heat spills through me, longing and need, as he dances his fingers over mine, staring into my eyes. I drift the sole of my foot along his calf, feeling hard, dense muscle and soft, springy hair.

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