Page 2 of Never Have I Ever

He pulls away, his piercing blue eyes that could give the sky a run for its money meeting mine. A grin punctuated with the slightest of dimples digging into his cheeks holds pure amusement. “You look like you’re concocting a plan I want to be a part of,” he says, running the back of his hand along the side of my neck and leaving a wave of goose bumps in its path.

I squirm under the intensity of his stare as he allows his gaze to drift over my body, drinking me in like a man fresh from the desert despite already having me bare in bed for hours. My heart beats faster, and my breath quickens. I almost hate how easy it is for him to incite a reaction from me, but I love it as well.

“How much mine?” I enjoy teasing him, maybe too much, but that lady-killer smile gets me every time.

“I’m all in.” The laughter I expect doesn’t follow from him, but he situates himself between my legs, which feels like a win.

One small shift and we’re back together again. It’s tempting to dare myself to take the plunge, but I haven’t lost all my senses . . . yet. “We need another condom.”

Darkness flares in his eyes, widening his pupils. He shifts, exhaling a deep breath as he hops off the bed to locate the box we bought on the way to the Capitol Hotel. That trip was a blur of whims, from the matching tattoos we got earlier to stopping at a convenience store for condoms, bottles of water, and more beer. The necessities for a good time.

Our attraction was instant, our chemistry undeniable, and the freedom to do as we please recklessly exhilarating. I’d forgotten what unadulterated happiness felt like until I met the famous guitarist from the band Faris Wheel. And smelled him. I don’t know what this man bathes in, but he’s intoxicating.

My impatience gets the better of me, the need to feel him inside me again becoming too much. I kick the sheets to the foot of the bed and prop up on my elbows to inspire him, “I want you.”

“Fuck it.” He grabs the box and returns to me. I admire the perfection of his body—eight hard abs, shoulders that rival his reputation in grandeur, and muscular arms with colorful tattoos covering sections of both. I can’t wait to touch him, to feel every hard hill of muscle, and get lost in the valleys of sensations this man creates. Again.

But it’s his striking blue eyes that capture me most. The strong jaw covered in a few days’ scruff and the lips that beckon mine to his have me foolishly imagining what it might be like if we could last more than one night.

He climbs onto the bed, taking center stage, ready for me. “Come here.”

I move to straddle him, locking our gazes and pressing my palms to his chest before I lift all the way. He wastes no time positioning himself at my entrance. The frenzy from earlier is gone, but the heat between us remains. He reaches up to squeeze my breasts and tease my nipples with gentle flicks, bringing them to life, awakening my entire body. It’s so tempting to slam down, take what I need, and chase the fireworks.

I don’t because this feels too good to rush toward the ending. I go slow, lowering myself over him inch by glorious inch. The stretch, the burn, the overwhelming sensation of him filling me so completely.

“That’s fucking perfect,” he says, groaning as I rock on top of him.

Our bodies move together and against each other. I take, and I give. I lift and fall while he thrusts so hard I’m not sure I can last much longer. “Laird.” His name falls out of my mouth, wistful among the sounds of our bodies coming together and apart, and together again. I drag my nails over his chest, hitting the edge of the plastic covering his new permanent art, causing me to open my eyes and admire what we did earlier.

He breathes against my shoulder, then kisses me there. “That feel good, baby?”

“Don’t stop. Please.”

An untethered emotion dominates his expression as he shifts, meeting me with a thrust so hard that I gasp. His grasp tightens on my hip as I track his other hand between my breasts and down to my stomach. My breath quickens when the tips of his fingers land between my legs, but I hold it all together in anticipation.

He sits up, holding me close as I continue to rock, the ache for more consuming me. His fingers tease, coaxing me toward the edge while the bridge of his nose runs along the crest of my jaw as he inhales my very soul, swallowing me whole. “Breathe, Poppy.” It’s only a breeze across my heated skin, but it does wonders in bringing me back to him. “Breathe for me.”

As if I needed permission. I exhale and then catch my breath as he pushes in again. “Oh God, yes.” But my head spins, and the torturous pleasure between my legs overpowers my will to hold on any longer. “Oh God, Laird.”

His mouth steals my next breath, his tongue finding refuge tangled with mine.

We kiss.

We thrust.

We fuck.

The push. The pull. The chase and the inevitable fall. Ripped from reality, I plunge into ecstasy, the bright lights rippling through every nerve ending until the tremoring ends.

Left unraveled, I become jelly in his arms.

But he’s not finished yet . . .

A growl rumbles through his chest while hot breath coats the side of my neck. “You feel so good, baby. Too good,” he groans, anchoring his body around mine as I grind to help him find his completion.

“Laird.”

“I’m sorry,” he says before fucking me so hard a moan is pushed right through me.

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