Page 31 of Luck of the Draw

“I’m more than okay.” Skye slid her palms to cover his ass and gripped it, tugging him, urging him all the way. “Please, Brennan. I promise.”

Still holding her eyes, he slowly sank himself to her depths. He gritted his teeth to silence a groan, and her eyes fluttered shut for a second or two before she zeroed her gaze on his. Their breath came in unison, watching each other, getting lost as he pulled out and pushed in, still slow, over and over again.

She felt so fucking good. Her expression was captivating. The scrumptious feeling of relieving the ache of longing for her was familiar. The tightening in his chest was, too, but he hadn’t felt it in this kind of situation before. Not with one of his companions. Not with a woman he’d only known a couple of hours. That tightening was something he’d only felt once.

When he realized the woman he believed was his soulmate belonged to his best friend.

It was the feeling of a connection that was immediately rendered impossible.

It was out of place right then, and Brennan pushed it out of his mind to rid it from his chest, and then he focused everything on the feel of their potent connection.

Skye arched her back, lifting her hips to complement his movement, chin tilted upward. She uttered a seduced moan. “Oh yes,” she murmured, more to the ceiling than to him it seemed. “That’s exactly how it should be. This is how it’s supposed to feel.”

Brennan wholeheartedly agreed but said nothing as he continued.

7

FRENCH QUARTER, NEW ORLEANS

This was—hands down—the best sex Skye had ever had.

That was truthfully a bit cliché, but honestly if all the sex you’ve ever had wasawful, even marginally good sex could be the best by comparison.

And this was not marginally good. This wasexceedinglygood.

Beyond that, Brennan was completely dreamy. That was a totally lame description of him also. But after being manhandled and mistreated and forced and hurt, it was pretty much the stuff of fairy tales to be wrapped up with a man who was so...ugh.

This wasecstasy.

This was a drug, and if Skye wasn’t careful, she could easily get hooked.

His strong hands that could so easily inflict pain were gentle and reverent as he slid them over her hip and up her waist, around her back, and all the way down again. His fingers lingered in random places, rubbing firmly or feathering lightly, as if he were captivated by the feel of her skin.

You’re safer with me than any other person in this whole city, he’d said.

I’m not going to hurt you, he’d promised.

That was the most dangerous part of all of it.

Brennan could be the most amazing lover in the history of the world, but what really seduced Skye was the notion of safety. Thefeelingof safety.

Right then, she was drowning in it.

She couldn’t even remember all the times she’d had sex, and this was the only time she’d ever felt safe. The only time she justknewthat the man driving his dick into her body wasn’t going to hurt her.

It’s possible Brennan could still prove her wrong, but she’d jump off that bridge when she got to it.

Skye tossed her head backward, biting her bottom lip and moaning as Brennan swiveled his hips, hitting her clit with just the right amount of pressure. His hands were all over her body, sweeping from her waist to her hips and back up to her neck. His fingers threaded into her hair; his mouth sought hers often. Lips that traced her jaw in a long, sweeping line to her ear, where he murmuredbeautiful,sweetheart, anddarlin’in a subtle southern accent that grew thicker out of nowhere.

His thrusts were slow, driven by the force of his whole body. Skye closed her eyes and rocked with his movements, her hips canting to match his with every deep, satisfying stroke. She slipped her arms under his, sliding her hands over the chiseled, bulging muscles in his back and shoulders, fingers anchoring into them as though bracing for a fall or to keep her from floating away from the surface of the earth.

A rush of emotion slammed into Skye’s chest. She could’ve cried from how innatelygoodit all felt. So overwhelming. So mind-blowing. Almost too much to process.

“My God.” The involuntary words. Her face was buried in his neck. The pleasure was building. “MyGod.” Still building. “Brennan.” Tiny, internal convulsions. It was happening. It had hinted at happening moments ago, but now it was really happening. “Keep going.Please.” She pressed her eyelids tighter, focusing on that blinding sensation building inside her.

And finally…there it was.

It came in dizzying, blinding waves similar to the pleasure she was used to creating for herself before bending to the will of some man who gave no thought to anything beyond his own satisfaction. Except she’d never been able to do this much for herself.Nobodyhad ever been able to do this. Nothing this deep and intense. Nothing this maddening and blinding.

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