Page 92 of Defending her Heart

“Nash,” I gasp.

His fingers and tongue don’t relent, and he presses his hand a little harder. Our eyes lock. “Don’t hold back, Kendall. Come all over my face, baby. Show me what I do to you.”

My legs stiffen as the orgasm builds, shooting through my limbs. My eyes widen before the pressure forces them closed, and I gush my orgasm all over Nash’s tongue and fingers.

“Fuuucck.”

I grip the comforter so hard my nails bend back. The orgasm shakes my legs and still, Nash doesn’t stop tormenting my pussy. As soon as one wave slows down, he changes the angle of his fingers and I’m riding high again as another explosive orgasm shoots from my core.

“Nash. I can’t.” I squeeze his head with my thighs and scoot farther back on the bed. “Fuck. You trying to kill me?” I pant.

When he steps away from me, my legs fall open again, and I lay there spread eagle, spent and exhausted.

“I told you to fuel up.”

I open one eye and squint at Nash as he strips out of his clothes. “I toldyouto fuel up.”

“And look at you now. Falling asleep in the middle of the first round.”

I snort. “I’m resting up before I ride you into the sunset.”

Nash crawls over me, his hard cock skimming against my skin. “The sun set a long time ago. But you can ride me into the sunrise if you’d like.” He rubs his long shaft along the lips of my pussy, and I shiver with desire.

I’ll ride him as soon as my legs have feeling in them again, but not until sunrise. I’ll be long gone before then.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

KENDALL

I didn’t think my lunch break would ever come. Not wanting to deal with my coworkers today, I hide out in my classroom and sink into my desk chair. My body is weak and sore in the best way, and I hardly have the energy to open my lunchbox, but I know I need the fuel to get me through the rest of the day.

Last night, Nash worshiped my body. I wanted him to fuck me hard, leave his marks, destroy my insides, as he had promised.

Instead, he made love to me. He fucking made love to me even when I tried to hurry him along. When I climbed on him and rode him hard, I was hoping for a fast fuck. Ineededa fast fuck.

Going two weeks without Nash inside me was torture. Then he tortured me even more by pulling out and flipping us so I was on bottom and he was in control. No matter how high I lifted my hips, or how deep I dug my heels into his ass, he didn’t take me hard and fast.

No, he had to do the unthinkable and make me feel cherished. His touches turned softer yet more intense, as if he was studying, learning, memorizing me. Every inch of me. The self-control that man has is freaking ridiculous.

Every time I reached for his hard cock, wet from my orgasms, he pulled away and kissed me somewhere. My neck. My clavicle. My hip. My belly button. His fingers roamed and touched as well.

It shouldn’t have been erotic. I shouldn’t have orgasmedagainwhen he massaged my breasts and dragged his lips along my neck and whispered in my ear. The slow-burning orgasmshouldn’t have been so intense I thought I burst a blood vessel behind my eyes.

Nash was in no hurry last night, and I worried he’d keep me there in orgasmic bliss until sunrise. Eventually, he slid back into me again and moved slower than Boston’s rush hour traffic.

He was in no hurry, yet I could see the strain holding back had on him. The veins in his neck were prominent, as was the sweat along his brow and down his spine.

You’re beautiful.

You’re so fucking perfect.

I can never get enough of you.

Nash made me feel like his everything, but it was the heat of the moment talking. He’s a talker during sex. Dirty words. Praise. It’s his kink. At least, that’s what I need to believe.

When we’re not having sex, we’re...friendly. I need to keep reminding myself of this. We’re friends with benefits. Just because he’s amazing in bed and makes me feel cherished and loved doesn’t mean he cherishes or loves me.

He loves sex. Hell, the man went without it for a long ass time. Of course he’s going to be horny and talkative when he’s getting off.

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