Page 101 of Exposed

I go deeper.

We come closer together.

Goldie starts to moan and move with me.

She gasps, and for the second time I feel her pulse around me, but this time it’s my cock. I can’t take it any longer and let go.

“Fuck,” I growl as my balls tighten. I lose control, slam into her harder and harder until I can’t take it anymore, and I question whether any extra strength condom could live through this in one piece.

I plant myself deep and fall to my hands on either side of her, caging her in.

A desire I’m fighting more and more as time with her passes.

Goldie’s knees give out and she collapses on her stomach. I come down with her—our connection still as strong and deep as ever.

Her body is limp and sated, and she takes every ounce of weight I give her.

Completely surrounding her.

We’re sweaty. Pulses racing. After a lifetime of sports, bootcamp, training, and years as a Ranger, my body is used to being pushed to the edge.

But my heart is doing shit I do not recognize.

Every instinct in me wants it, but I have a feeling that’s the exact thing that might chase her off.

And still, the only move I make is to slide my hand under hers to thread our fingers and kiss the side of her head.

She gives me a weak squeeze. “How do you do that?”

My voice is hoarse. “Fucking you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

That doesn’t get the reaction I think it will. “No. I mean you take me like you’re desperate. Like you want to bust me at the seams because it might be the last time you get the experience, and then you do something as sweet as hold my hand and kiss me like I’m delicate.”

Fuck.

This time my fingers grip hers, and it’s not weak. “Did I hurt you?”

She huffs a breath of oxygen. “That was the opposite of hurt. I’m trying to figure you out. Just when I think I know who you are, another day goes by, and there’s a whole other side of you. You have so many facets, you’re one of those complex shapes I can’t remember from geometry.”

I press my semi-hard cock into her. “Right back at you. I’m trying to figure you out, too, and not chase you off in the process.”

When she sighs, we sink further into the mattress. “I’m an overthinker.”

“Then I’m pleased I’ve made it this far.” I pull our hands in to tuck her in tighter.

I don’t want to let go.

“You’re not slipping through my fingers, Goldie. I won’t allow it.”

She doesn’t answer or acknowledge my possessive statement. “I’m tired.”

For some reason, I don’t think she means she could sleep until noon tomorrow.

I have a feeling she’s fucking exhausted from dealing with DexCarter and his minions. Hell, she gave up a future of financial freedom just to live free of her brother.

“It’s late. Who the hell knows what tomorrow will bring. Let’s get some sleep.”

I do something I do not want to do.

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