Our mouths reconnect and a surge of intensity seizes me.
His touch. His full, soft lips on mine. It feels so right, and I clench around him, holding on, but wanting him deeper.
I need him deeper.
He grabs my hips and pulls them into his. I’m burning up with his heat.
His mouth. His hands. His cock.
Lifting my handcuffed wrists over his head, I stare into those dark, mysterious eyes.
“Come with me,” I beg him.
“Thought you’d never ask,” he whispers, pressing his mouth to mine.
My cry turns into a guttural growl when the heat inside me sparks a bonfire.
His pelvis rocks against my swollen pussy in rhythm with our thumping heartbeats, and I can’t hold on any longer. I just can’t…
“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” I chant.
We let ourselves go and shudder together as a wall of ecstasy breaks and crashes around us. Wave after wave swells through me. I pulse, tighten, and pulsate with him buried in my sweet spot, prolonging the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced.
It’s an out-of-this-world feeling, and all I can do is cling to his mighty biceps and ride every single second.
I never want this to end.
Gasping into my open mouth, I feel him gush inside me, releasing all the tension we’ve both felt since he arrived at the gas station.
There is no better feeling than Chris filling me up. The warm rush of his release as he shakes and trembles on top of me quivers my lips.
Cradled between my thighs, he rests his forehead to mine and we lie here, whole and sated.
As the aftershocks of our pleasure subside, he stares into my eyes and I hear everything his heart is trying to say.
“I know you do,” I mime up at him as his warm tear splashes into my cheek.
I’ve often wondered who Chris Collins is when he’s alone.
Who he is when the clubs are closed and there’s no trouble following him around.
When the memories of what he’s done and his reputation are discarded for a moment.
And now I know.
He’s warm, gentle, and giving. He makes me feel whole and beautiful, like I matter, and this is how I want to feel for the rest of my life.
“You’re perfect,” he whispers down at me.
Even though that’s hard for me to accept, I believe that he means it, and that in itself is life-changing.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” I reply as that trademark grin smiles down at me.
He winks. “Still think I’m a big oaf?”
As his girth softens inside me, I smile and sigh contentedly.
“Yeah,” I tease, kissing his full lips. “But you’remy big oaf now, Chris Collins…”
THIRTY-THREE
Chris
I
‘ve been watching Harper sleep for the past two hours. The way her soft snore parts her pink lips is so hypnotizing.
She’s like a piece of fine art. The most perfect, fragile vase that I’m scared of breaking.
I don’t want to wake her, but I can’t help softly stroking her face, and her cute nose twitches.
Like two bright blue suns giving birth to a new day, she opens her stunning eyes and greets me with a smile.
“Hey, you,” she whispers through a yawn.
“Hey, you,” I say, gazing over her naked body.
Harper’s tired eyes fall to my chest, and she locks her gaze on the scar above my heart.
“What are you thinking?” she asks me.
“You really want to know?”
“Wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”
I nod. “I’m thinking that I always wished that bullet hit me three inches higher.”
“Wished?” she asks, placing her hand on my old wound. “Past tense? What changed?”
“This irritating girl I met,” I say, lifting her hand to kiss her fingers. “She changed everything and turned my head into mush. She should come with a health warning.”
Harper giggles. “She sounds amazing.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “She is.”
She lifts herself close to my ear.
“She’s glad the bullet missed your heart,” she whispers. “Because now she gets to keep it all for herself.”
I smile. “I can live with that.”
Dropping to my back, I pull her naked body onto my lap.
“Ready for round five?” I tease.
“No way!” she laughs as I tickle her sides. “I’m sore enough already. Now let me go before I pee all over you.”
“But look what you did,” I say, glancing at my groin.
“Why are you always hard?” she purrs.
I glance at the mirror on her closet door. “Have you seen you?”
Harper’s cheeks blush red as she stares at her reflection.
“Wow. I don’t look too bad,” she mumbles.
Groaning, I sit up and spin her in my lap. She’s now facing the mirror, and I wrap my arms around her waist.
“What are you doing?” she whispers, looking away.
I lift my hand and tilt her head back to her closet.
“I’m just sitting here admiring the most stunning woman on earth,” I whisper in her ear.
“You’re crazy,” she says.
“Agreed,” I say. “But I’m also correct on this one. You’re perfect, Harper. And if you could see yourself through my eyes, you’d never doubt yourself again.”
A smile curls her lips as she sighs contentedly.
“I’ve forgotten what life was like before you showed up,” she says, staring down at the bloody cloth wrapped around my hand. “I think there were a lot less guns and kidnappings.”
I snicker and kiss her shoulder.
“I want to talk to you about all that,” I whisper into her soft skin.
“Okay. What?-“
A stern knock wraps against her bedroom door, and we both freeze.
“Tell me that isn’t…”
“Harper?” her dad yells, our head snapping to the door as the handle lowers. “Are you home? I came to check if you were okay.”
“Hang on!” Harper shouts as we sit here motionless. “I’m…I’m kind of busy, Dad!”
“Oh, well. I just came for a chat…”
Grabbing the sheets, I drag her back on top of me and pull the covers over us just as the door opens.
I knew he was controlling, but I never realized Mark wasthis bad. She’s twenty-two, so why the hell does he never respect her privacy?
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.