Page 5 of Pulled Away

Sitting up, he leans in, closing the space between us until I can feel his breath on my lips.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” His voice is soft, but he doesn’t need to say the words. It’s written on every line of his face when he looks at me. Still, I love hearing the words, and I suspect I’ll never tire of hearing them.

Drawing my lower lip between my teeth, I pretend to think. “You know what? I can’t recall.”

His grin tells me he knows I’m full of shit, but he humors me anyway by telling me exactly how much between kisses.

“We have that thing at Frosty’s on Saturday,” I murmur between kisses. “What time will your friend be here?”

“Damn, I forgot about that,” he admits, sitting back and running his hand through his hair. “It’s a long flight, so I’m not sure she’ll feel up to it. Will it be okay if I settle her in and join you after?”

“No problem. It will give me time to check out the talent before you get there.” I’m teasing, trying to keep my face serious, but it becomes damn hard when he slaps his hand over my mouth, looking at me as if I just kicked a puppy.

“You did not just say that,” he grumbles, trying to sound all growly, but I can see the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. Seeing that I can’t say anything with his hand clamped over my mouth, I widen my eyes, hoping that he’ll get my, “I said what I said. What are you going to do about it?” look.

His eyes narrow, and before I can process what he’s doing, he’s on his feet, marching to the bedroom with me hanging over his shoulder, shrieking with laughter.

Challenge accepted.

Chapter three

Aspen

Iwake up slowly to the feeling of soft kisses being pressed to my back. The bed moves, and I turn my head, smiling at the sight of Ryan lying next to me. He’s on his side, his head propped up on one hand, the other hand slowly tracing patterns over my bare back.

“Good morning,” I croak, my voice groggy. I’m not one of those people who wakes up gracefully. It happens in stages, and it takes a while with lots of eye-blinking involved. If I haven’t tied my hair before bed, it resembles a rat’s nest, and sometimes I even have dried drool on the side of my mouth. My first sleepover with Ryan scared the shit out of me. I was afraid to make myself so vulnerable in front of him and was certain he’d take one look at me in the morning and run screaming in the other direction.

He proved me wrong. He loves me, drool and all.

“One day I’m going to marry you, Aspen.” His face is serious as he watches his hand.

My heart skips a beat. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yes.” That traveling hand of his moves lower, his fingers nudging the covers out of his way.

“You’re awfully confident. Who says I want to marry you?” Tingles race up and down my back from his fingertips. I’m not at all serious because Ryan is the type of gorgeous in all the ways that count and I know I’ve hit the jackpot with him. Girls tend to do stupid things for guys like him.

His eyes darken. “Fate, destiny, the universe—take your pick. They made us for each other. And once my ring is on your finger, I’m going to put babies in your belly.”

“Hold on, Casanova. Who said anything about babies?”

“You know you want my babies.” The smile that tips the corners of his lips is sinful as his fingers travel down my back and over my ass. My eyes close, all my senses honed in on the burning path his fingers create, and helpless against the onslaught of feelings, I widen my legs in silent encouragement. He doesn’t disappoint, his fingers dipping down, teasing me with just the right amount of pressure.

“You’re so cocky,” I gasp, my toes curling with pleasure.

“No, baby.” He leans closer, his voice lowering and filling me with a delicious heat. “Just determined as fuck.”

I want to moan in protest when he removes his fingers, but before I can, his weight settles on my back, his legs bracketing mine. His hands slide up my arms, as soft as butterfly kisses, and with a firm, yet surprisingly gentle grip, he straightens them and tangles our fingers. He prods at my entrance, and I’m so wet, he slides in with ease, making us both groan. Once he’s fully seated inside me, he tightens his legs, squeezing mine together. Nuzzling his face in my neck so that our cheeks are pressed together, he starts rocking into me, keeping his pace slow and steady. He’s so deep and with my legs squeezed together, the friction is so intense, my helpless moans sound almost feral.

“I fucking love the sounds you make,” he groans, his fingers tightening around mine, the rumble of his voice against my ear shooting shivers down my back and arms. He withdraws slowly, and with a grunt, slams back. My whimper seems to ignite something in him because his fingers tighten around mine and his breathing speeds up.

His body envelops me, but instead of it feeling suffocating, I feel safe and cherished. It’s so good, so intimate, that tears spring to my eyes. I want to hold on to him with everything I have and never let go. I want to drown in his love and never come up for air.

The sensations his body evokes in me consume me, winding me tighter and tighter until I’m trembling, my heart a heavy drum in my chest beating out a crescendo that I know will be explosive when it peaks.

I know I’m not the only one feeling it. It’s there in his bunched muscles against my arms, the rhythmic clenching of his abdominals with every thrust, and his panting gasps in my ear.

This, this is not sex. This is pure magic and my body weeps for the pleasure of it. Finally, I can’t hold back the tide, and shuddering, I clench my fingers woven between his, his name a gasp of air as the wave crests over me, setting me afire from the inside out. I’m still lost in the sensations shuddering through my body when Ryan stiffens, my name on his lips, a groan that skates across my sensitive flesh, intensifying my shivers.

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