Page 104 of Reckless

Before I even know what’s happening, Jude pulls out, spins me around and spreads my legs so he can push back in. Jude stares into my eyes as he puts his hand under my chin, holding my jaw in place, so I have no choice but to keep looking at him.

I clutch his forearms, my nails raking over his skin, and his eyes go even more feral as he moves faster.

“Jude,” I moan.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “One more, Krista.”

“I can’t.”

“You can,” he dips down and sucks my collar bone, licking a path down to my nipple. He circles it with his tongue, sending sparks shooting through me. “I’m not stopping till you do.”

Sweat is pooling between us as our skin slaps together. I’m surprised the bed isn’t shaking, but it’s fixed on the wall and floor. Jude seems determined to break it.

My legs wrap around his hips, tightening to where he finds it harder to thrust. I grab the back of his hair and he pauses, looking down at me.

Jude always knows how far to push me, and it looks as if he is coming out of the stupor he was in. As I stare up at him, his expression turns to concern.

“You’re not hurting me,” I reassure him, then clench him inside me. His eyes roll back in his head.

When he moves this time, it’s slower, deeper, and our eyes lock. He dips down and takes my lips, kissing me as deeply as he’s thrusting into me, and just as slowly. I squeeze my eyes tight against the emotions taking over me. My eyes grow wet, and my nose burns with the effort not to let any tears squeeze through as I fall into the kiss. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. I’m not sad or hurt.

I’m feeling too much.

Jude groans as his back bows with each slow thrust, his mouth never leaving mine. When he groans my name, I give him what he wants, even if I never believed it was possible to have five orgasms in quick succession, and I come again.

He kisses me through it and through his own climax. I collapse back on the bed. Our lips part and he stays raised up, staring at me. Our breath is panting out of us, his chest is heaving.

Jude kisses my forehead before he pulls out and drops onto his back beside me.

I swear I can hear our hearts beating in the aftermath. It’s obvious why he is so pent up and needing to release his frustrations.

He told me what happened at the interview. How he was mildly impressed with their new managers’ handling of the reporter. How she tried to flirt and even propositioned him. He laughed about it, but that kind of thing makes him uncomfortable.

I was happy he told me. He didn’t need to, but he did.

He’s kept Luther and Riggs at arm’s length since he got back. They went into the local town for dinner while we ate on the roof of the RV.

Now, it’s almost two in the morning and I’m exhausted.

Jude kisses my temple, then rolls away, disappearing into the bathroom. He’s gone for a while, but I give him his space. It gives me time to get my emotions under control. Tucking the sheet under my arms, I sit up and catch my reflection in the mirror. God, my hair is a mess.

Pulling Jude’s t-shirt on, I stand in front of the mirror and try to tame it, but it’s a lost cause. Nothing short of washing it will rescue this bird’s nest.

I’ve had men love my hair before. More than a few have enjoyed pulling on it when we’re in bed, but never the way Jude does.

Even when we’re not in bed, he’s touching it, running his fingers through it, or brushing it off my face.

“Has anyone ever told you how sexy you look wearing men’s clothes?”

“Men’s, or yours?” I meet his eyes in the mirror’s reflection.

“Mine, obviously,” he growls.

“No, no one has ever said that to me.” My fingers snag on a knot in my hair and I wince.

Jude comes up behind me and reaches for a hairbrush. “Let me,” he says, lifting my hair from the nape of my neck and running the brush over it, detangling it where he can.

The look of concentration on his face has me melting. He likes to take care of me in ways no other man has.

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