Page 173 of Moon's Promise

“I provoked you?” Moon gave a throaty laugh. “Hell, I was the one provoked. You’re lucky I didn’t fuck you on the trunk of the car.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Arching her neck back to look at his face, she was stunned at the look there.

“Oh yes, I would.”

The big jerk used the opportunity of her pushing away from him to tug her clinging top off.

“You would have tried to have sex with me out in the open for anyone to see?” Wincing at the scandalized shriek in her voice, she attempted to bat his hands away from unbuttoning her jean shorts but failed miserably and found herself tumbling backward on the bed.

Kicking out at him, she thought she had won the battle of wills when Moon backed away. She raised herself on her elbows and realized he was merely using the opportunity to remove his own clothes.

“Do I look shy to you?”

Larissa had to swallow the lump in her throat. No, Moon was not shy. His bronze body gleamed under the ceiling light, highlighting every nook and crevice of his muscular body. God, his body was fit and toned to the point there wasn’t a spare inch of extra flesh. He was all hard angles and planes, leading to the turgid length of his cock under a nest of curly hair.

Unable to look at him any longer, she had to blink back tears she felt gathering in the back of her eyes.

A calloused hand turned her face back to him.

“You’re beautiful,” she said reverently.

A frown crossed his forehead. “What’s wrong with that?”

“I’m not.” Old wounds returned to haunt of her. How many times had she been made fun of as a child for not being as pretty as other girls? That she was such a geek no boy would ever want her? Were those insecurities what had led her to letting her ex-boyfriend take advantage of her for so long?

Moon planted his hands on each side of her head. “You’re sexy as fuck.”

When he licked his tongue over her lips before thrusting it inside her mouth, her mind was transported into Never Never Land, where Moon was kissing her like she was the most beautiful woman on earth. As if she was one of those women who made men turn their heads when they walked into a room. The type of woman men would die for.

Her legs came up to circle his hips, pulling him down. “I want you … so bad … even though I know I shouldn’t,” she managed to get out.

Moon sensuously slid his cock inside her warm, aching center. Arching her neck, she gave a low moan.

“Why shouldn’t you?” he murmured, licking a taut nipple.

“You’re going to break my heart, just like everyone else.”

“You could break mine just as easily,” he countered.

Her hands grabbed his hair, forcing him to end the torment on her breasts as his body thrust inside of her over and over.

“I don’t think your heart has ever been broken by a woman.” She slid her hands over the slick muscles of his back as she held on. “No woman would willingly give you up.”

She could tell from his expression that he didn’t want to admit she was right.

Sliding her hands down to his buttocks to pull him tighter against her, she gloried in the erotic feel of the muscles moving underneath the firm flesh. “I can’t blame them either. I don’t want this to ever end.”

Biting his shoulder, she fought the climax that was building inside of her as his body forced her higher and higher, leaving her no choice but to take the dive that she had tried to prolong. His groan told her he had found his release as well.

She read the male satisfaction on his face as he rolled off her to get out the bed, though it only fed the hollow emptiness that was gradually increasing each time they had sex. While she wanted the physical intimacy to last longer—forever—Moon plainly did not. Using his sexual experience, he called all the shots.

“I’m going to take a shower. You coming?”

Rolling over, she pretending to yawn. “I’ll take one when I get up.”

Bending down, he brushed a kiss over her mouth. “Enjoy your nap.”

She waited until she saw the bathroom door close after him before she buried her head in the pillow. Like the satellite he was nicknamed after, Moon preferred his solitude. He carried an air about him that even when he was with his friends, a part of him remained detached. If his friends, who had known him for years, couldn’t breach that air of isolation surrounding him, how did she think to have any hope? It was becoming more obvious that she wouldn’t. Did she love him enough to be content to take only what he was willing to give her? Like she had with her ex?

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