Page 60 of Must Have Been Love

What if I don’t stop? What if that becomes me? Hudson damn Fitzgerald has a lot to answer for.

Thankfully he does stop, his eyes dark as he pulls himself reluctantly away from my thighs, kissing his way up my body to my lips as he softly presses his mouth against mine. They’re warm, they taste of me. It’s weirdly decadent.

“I want to be inside of you,” he murmurs against me.

Oh god, I need that too. Praise be, my orgasm is waning, dissolving into a soft, warm pleasure that radiates through my body. I nod, and he pulls out a condom, sliding it easily on, before he pulls me against him. I don’t tell him I’m on the pill – he doesn’t need to know that I take it for bad periods. I just like that he’s taken my requirements seriously. His heated excitement is hard against me as I wrap my legs around his hips and he lazily thrusts inside.

The air rushes from my lips. This man is big. I hold onto his shoulders, trying to get used to his size.

“Okay?” he asks me, our gaze locking.

I want to tell him to stop being nice to me. To stop checking on me. To stop snapping my soul in two. But instead I nod again, and he pulls out then pushes in, his eyes looking down at the connection between us as he moves in and out of my body, his rhythm creating a burning need inside of me, and sating it all at the same time.

“Better than I imagined,” he mutters. “So much better.”

He’s imagined me like this. My cheeks heat up at the thought.

“Fuck me until you break me,” I whisper.

A half-smile pulls at his lips as he takes me at my word and starts to thrust harder, faster, his hands trailing over my body as I cling onto his. He kisses me, his hand sliding down until it’s between us, his thumb finding where I need him, the movements matching the rhythm of his thrusts until I swear I’m going to combust.

“Hudson…”

“Come,” he murmurs, kissing me. “Come for me. All over me.”

So I do. Every muscle in my body tightens as pleasure washes over me in a wave. Softer, this time, but no less sweet. I bite his shoulder to stop myself from screaming, and then he’s muttering my name, stilling as he spills inside of me, his breath rough and sharp as I scrape my nails down his back.

We stay like that for a minute, my arms tight around him, my mouth against his skin, his face buried into my hair. I’m almost afraid to let go. I don’t know what happens next.

I lift my head up to catch him staring at me, an unreadable expression on his handsome face. Neither of us says a word, we just stare.

And then he reaches between us and pulls out of me, his fingers keeping the condom secure, before he grabs something from his pants and strides unabashedly naked over to the bathroom, the door swinging closed behind him.

I immediately miss his warmth. But it’s only a second before he’s back. He has something in his hand, something white.

It takes a moment before I realize it’s a handkerchief that he’s dampened under the tap.

“It’s clean,” he tells me, as he slides it between my legs, the warm cotton cleaning up the mess he’s made of me.

My throat is tight as he takes care of me, cleaning me up before he stands and kisses me softly. I sit up, watching him as he pulls his shorts back on.

“You have no idea how much I want to take you to bed right now,” he tells me.

My chest tightens. “You just did.”

“I mean to snuggle.”

For some reason him saying that word makes me laugh. Snuggle and Hudson Fitzgerald aren’t two things I’d ever put together.

“I’m not a snuggler,” I lie, swinging my legs because I like the way he can’t stop looking at my naked body. “I’d annoy you by being restless.” I reach for him, wrapping my arms around his neck, as he stands between my legs.

“You’re annoying me by not letting me take you to bed,” he mutters.

I tip my head to the side, running my fingers through his hair. It’s soft and silky against my skin. “It’s better this way,” I murmur. “Now you can go home and sleep in your own bed and not worry about when it’s a good time to leave or if I’m going to demand that you stay all night. No strings, no worries.”

His eyes narrow. “Who says there’s no strings?” He sounds almost pissed off now.

I swallow hard. “Isn’t that what you want? Your life is complicated enough without me.” I try to smile. “And I promise, I’m always a huge complication.”

---