Page 50 of Challenged by the Single Dad

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.Right now, she didn’t care.

Right now, she was happy. Her body hummed, her heart swelled, and her pussy … well, that girl was ready for anything at this point. She was wet and waiting—impatiently.

But Dom wasn’t taking it any further. He hadn’t even cupped her breast or her ass. He still just held her face and kissed her.

Which was nice.

It was really nice, the man was a great kisser, but was he going to take it further? Did he want to?

Or would the spell be broken the moment their lips parted? Then he’d realize this was a huge mistake, he was her boss, and things would be forever strained and awkward between them.

As if he could read her mind, he sucked on her bottom lip gently once more, then pulled away. She opened her eyes to find him right there, looking at her.

Swallowing, she blinked.

Her breathing was still wild. So was his. And their chests heaved against each other.

His gaze roamed her face, and hers roamed his. He pulled in a deep breath through his nose. Then, just like before, they surged together, lips colliding. Only this time, his hands didn’t stay cupping her face for long. They traveled down her sides to the hem of her T-shirt. She went for the buttons of his flannel, working enough of them free that he could break their kiss long enough to haul his shirt over his head. He wore a black tank top underneath, but it did nothing to hide his muscles.

Her shirt was next. Then they went to work on their pants. Jeans were unbuttoned with haste. She was grateful that she’d worn her black running shoes for comfort rather than her combat boots, which were impossible to take off. She kicked one leg out of her black jeans and hadn’t even bothered with her underwear before he had her by the face again, once again taking her mouth.

Everything happened so fast after that. He cupped her ass, picked her up, and set her on the counter. She reached for him, hauling him closer, only to then wedge a hand between them and find him hard and ready. She notched him at her center, just pushing her underwear to the side, and in one quick thrust—followed by a grunt from each of them—he was fully seated.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his forehead pressed to hers. They both moaned as he started to buck into her with abandon. She grappled at his back, needing more of his skin beneath hers. She reached for the hem of his tank top and ripped it over his head.

“Oh my god,” she breathed, taking in his defined torso and the grayscale tattoo of a tree climbing up the right side of his torso from his hipbone. “Yes.”

He grinned and went back for her mouth, biting her bottom lips before thrusting his tongue in to find hers. His rhythm never wavered. He kept pace, he kept moving, sliding in and out of her, bringing her closer and closer to that beautiful, sweet release. She’d been primed for him. There was no need for foreplay. If anything, their entire relationship up until this point had been foreplay. The push and pull. The way he challenged her. The way he made her open up unlike she’d ever opened up to anybody before.

She clung to his neck, grappled at his muscular shoulder blades like he was the last thing keeping her grounded to Earth, otherwise she might float away. The passion bottled up inside of him needed to go somewhere and she was absolutely volunteering as tribute. She wanted it all for herself. Needed it.

Because she felt the exact same way. She’d lusted after this man for way too long.

He found her mouth again, kissing her with an intensity, a level of possession she’d only ever read about in her romance novels but never experienced herself. With a need so deep, so primal, it was as if stealing her breath, and resolve was the only thing keeping him alive—and sane. To keep him from drowning in the sea of despair he’d lived in for so long. A deep, animalistic growl rumbled through him, the vibration of it rolling through her ribcage and down between her legs.

The need to come rushed forward, stirring like a beautiful heat in her lower belly and where he filled her up. He kissed a trail across her cheek, down her jaw and her neck, nipping at her shoulder. She tilted her head back, her eyes still closed, her chin to the ceiling. His hand wrapped around her braid at the back, and he tugged, giving himself better access to her neck. He raked his teeth up, her pulse thundering beneath his lips. She moaned as he picked up speed, bucking into her harder and faster.

Biting her bottom lips, she dug her nails into his shoulders and let go.

Like a dam breaking, the rush of adrenaline and pleasure was overwhelming. She stilled as she broke, everything inside of her throbbing with ecstasy as he continued to move. A moment later, as she was still deep in the throes of her own release, Dom paused his efforts, grunted, pressed his forehead to hers, and leaped off the cliff with her.

Together, their chests rose and fell rapidly, their breaths came out in forced, deep pants and his low, feral growl nearly pitched her over the edge into a second climax.

Everything inside of her thrummed. Alive, alert, and aching for more.

The waves of bliss had extended out to her fingers which ached, bunched against his tight shoulder muscles, and down to her toes which curled and cramped in her socks.

But she didn’t care.

So much of the pain she’d been carrying with her for all this time disappeared in the ether with each expelled breath. Her whole body became lighter. Her heart became lighter.

After a few more deep breaths, he lifted his head, and they blinked their eyes open.

His mouth found hers again in a gentle, sweet kiss. He was still seated inside her. Still hard. And she was reluctant for the moment to end. For them to no longer be connected.

Licking her lips, she carefully released her fingers from his skin. Murmuring a small, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

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