Page 55 of Undercover
Alec groaned, and his hands went too tight around my hips.
“Not today,” he said, and he sounded completely wrecked. I let out a disappointed little whine, words beyond my reach, but I knew he was right. “Come on.”
He pulled back and started to maneuver us to my bedroom. I stumbled along with him, hobbled by my jeans, until he half-carried me the rest of the way, kissing my neck, touching me everywhere. I’d gotten half-hard again by the time he tossed me on my bed and went for the condoms, rummaging through the nightstand like a man on a mission.
By the look of his cock, he was desperate. It stood out flushed and damp from the open fly of his jeans. My mouth watered, but I rolled over and got the rest of my own clothes off. Priorities. Having my legs half-pinned was kind of hot, but I wanted them over his shoulders instead.
Alec stopped, the condom in his hand, and stared down at me as I wriggled out of my clothes. It wasn’t graceful. But it looked like it didn’t need to be. His mouth dropped open, and his dilated eyes glittered.
“I have really good taste,” he said. “Really, really good taste.” And then he licked his lips and winked at me, and my face went so hot you could’ve fried an egg on it. “And so do you.”
“Oh my God,” I moaned, covering my face with my hands. “I can’t believe you.”
Alec laughed, and the rustles and thumps that followed told me he was stripping his own clothes.
Okay, embarrassed and self-conscious or not, that I had to see. I peeked through my fingers. Alec’s shoulders flexed as he bent to get his shoes off. I wished I had a back view, but this wasn’t bad either. He stood, and I got a full frontal. Broad shoulders, muscular chest, hair and tattoo on full display. His cock, so hard it had to hurt. Long legs.
I liked his legs. I couldn’t look away from his cock. At this angle it seemed even bigger than usual.
Yes, please.
Fuck self-consciousness. He loved the way I looked—and tasted, apparently—from the tips of my wavy pink hair down to my own long legs.
I sprawled back, spreading them as wide as they could go, my feet braced on the bed. My cock hadn’t quite gotten there yet, so I stroked it, base to tip, giving the head a little squeeze, going down again to toy with my balls and lift them up, showing him what he was about to get.
Alec cursed, nearly dropping the condom in his haste to rip it open. The lube bottle did tumble to the floor, after he’d poured half of it over his cock.
And then he landed on top of me, and I lost the plot. Too much of him to explore, rough hair and silky skin and the rasp of his stubble against my neck and the insistent press of his cock between my thighs.
I thought he’d thrust inside me all at once, but he pushed in excruciatingly slowly, stretching me nearly to bursting, inch by thick inch.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes, please,” I gasped. Some guys were squeamish about that. I might’ve been more so, if I hadn’t taken an incredibly thorough shower before I went out. Okay, so I’d fingered myself in the shower. Anyway, I’d gotten really, really clean. And bonus: some of the prep was already done in advance.
Alec kissed me the way he was fucking me, with careful thrusts of his tongue, exploring every crevice of me.
I tangled my tongue with his and gave as good as I got, pressing my heels into the backs of his thighs to spur him on.
I’d never get tired of the way it felt to be taken like that. Alec made it infinitely better. I didn’t know if I could ever settle for second-best, now that I knew what it felt like to have him inside me.
He picked up the pace at last, and I dug my fingers into his back, not caring that I’d leave marks. He wasmine, dammit.
Alec fucked me through the mattress, changing his angle until he hit my prostate dead-on.
I came again, biting into his shoulder, and he stiffened and slammed into me until we both collapsed, panting and sweaty and completely done.
At least, I was done. Put a fork in me. My arms fell away from where they’d been wrapped around Alec’s back, and my legs flopped to the sides.
Done.
Alec pressed his face into the curve of my neck and let out a sigh that sounded bone-deep.
“I missed you,” he whispered, tickling the skin just below my ear. “So much. Every day. Fuck, Gabe. I’m so sorry I had to treat you that way. I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.”
I swallowed hard, even though I knew he’d feel it. And interpret it. Before, I hadn’t realized I’d been dating a trained investigator. If I had, I’d have second-guessed every gesture and every word out of my mouth.
Of course, I’d mostly done that anyway, because insecurity was a bitch.
