He straightened, scooping me up in his arms as he went. I almost protested that I wasn’t the best size to be carried, but then I remembered that he’d done it before. I half-expected him to toss me onto the bed, but he set me down gently instead, sliding off my skirt and panties as he went.
“You soaked clean through these.” He grinned down at me as he deposited my clothes in the nearby hamper. After taking off his shirt, he moved on to his pants. “Damn, babe. My pants are wet too.”
I shrugged, enjoying the way his eyes dropped to my breasts when I moved. “You told me to come.”
He nodded. “I did.” He glanced behind him at a red silk scarf hanging over the edge of a chair, then looked down at me. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” The answer came before I was even aware of what it would be.
I watched as he walked over to my scarf, and the sight of all those muscles bunching and flexing sent a rush of arousal through me, sharp and sweet. His face was gorgeous enough, but that body…damn.
When he turned back around, scarf in hand, I felt silly for not having realized already what he wanted to do.
He leaned over me, his eyes locking with mine until the scarf hid him from sight. A shiver of anticipation, tinged with fear of the unknown, went down my spine. Not seeing him at all when he could see all of me took a lot more trust than I’d realized.
The bed dipped under me as he moved. “Spread your legs and put your arms above your head.”
I stretched my arms up, my fingertips brushing against my pillows. No matter where things went between the two of us, tonight would always be special to me. He was giving me something no one had ever been able to give me before, not even Clay.
“No thinking, no analyzing. Just feel.”
He grasped my ankle, slid his hand up my leg. I could feel his gaze on me as he hooked one leg over his hip, hitching it up high and opening me to him even more fully. He paused a moment, then surged forward, burying himself inside me with one thrust.
My back arched, mouth opening. He groaned, a wordless sound wrung out of him. We froze like that for several beats, locked together in an intimate embrace. Then, when I couldn’t bear it a second longer, he rotated his hips, rocked back and forth, as if he was gauging my responses.
When I pushed up against him, he leaned closer, my thigh muscles burning as my knee pressed closer to my chest. He drove into me with single-minded purpose, each stroke taking me to my limit. The words we said didn’t make much sense, a jumble of curses and endearments and compliments, each one’s sole purpose to express how much we were enjoying the feel of our bodies coming together, the sensations of skin on skin – complete for the first time.
I could have lied to myself that the only reason this felt so much different from other times I’d fucked was because I wasn’t constantly aware of my scar or because I wasn’t wearing a shirt, or even because of the blindfold, but I knew better. I knew it was because of Jalen, because of the trust between us, the connection we had. And when we came, him first and me seconds later, that connection only grew stronger.