Page 126 of Repairing the Wreckage

“Because I love you.” His lips quirk. “Trust me, I’m an unapologetic jackass to everyone else.”

“That’s not true.” I quirk an eyebrow. “You put up with an awful lot from my brother.”

He lets out a short rumble of laughter then shakes his head. “Please don’t bring him up now.”

“Sorry.” I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull him closer. “I need you so bad.”

He presses his forehead to mine and stares in my eyes. I lift my legs, wrapping them around his hips.

“That’s my girl,” he praises. “Open for me.”

Slowly, he presses inside. Inch by pleasurable inch. He watches my face the whole time, backing off with each flinch or frown that crosses my face, giving me all the time I need to adjust and accept all of him.

“I missed you inside me,” I whisper, clenching around him.

He groans and pulls back slightly. “I missed being inside you.”

I tighten my legs around his waist and roll my hips, meeting him each time he thrusts.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

“It’s still okay,” I lower my gaze to where we’re connected, “with the…you know?”

He thrusts harder. “Better than okay. I think, without it, I would’ve blown before you had a chance to come all over my dick for me.”

I shake with laughter and he groans, resting more of his weight on me. Something about the pressure or angle lights a new fuse. “That’s good,” I whisper urgently. “Don’t stop.”

“Already?” He lifts an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, but it feels good.”

He thrusts harder, hitting me just right. How does he seem to know exactly what my body likes? “Oh God.”

My limbs tremble as sweet release spirals through me.

“Yes,” he groans. “I feel you. Come for me.”

He slows his frantic thrusting as the pleasure ebbs. His lips trail over my throat, keeping the fire inside me at a slow simmer.

He gently kisses his way to my chest and slides out of me.

Still a bit dazed I blink at the loss of him.

“Up.” He grabs my hip and turns me to my stomach, then pulls me to my knees. “Nice.” He flattens his hand between my shoulder blades, pushing my chest to the mattress, arranging me the way he wants. “Very nice,” he groans and pushes inside me again.

“Oh,” I squeak. “This angle’s different.”

He slows his movements. “Too much?”

“No.” I wiggle my hips and move myself back and forth, testing out the slightly different sensation.

“Fuck, yeah.” He rests his hand at the small of my back, gently guiding my movements. “That’s good. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

I concentrate on rocking back and forth. It feels good but isn’t setting off any fireworks for me, yet.

“Come here.” He bands his arm around my middle and, keeping us connected, shifts and turns our bodies.

Behind me, he kneels and urges me, “Up. Up.”

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