Page 115 of The Beautiful Collision
“These need to go,” he mutters, and I lift my hips to help him slide them down my legs. They disappear somewhere behind him—probably somewhere that involves cooking—but I can’t bring myself to care because his fingers are back, circling my clit with a pressure that makes me see stars.
“Tell me what you want.” His voice is low and rough, his free hand tangling in my hair to tilt my head back.
“You,” I gasp as he slides two fingers inside me, his thumb maintaining that maddening pressure on my clit. “Always you.”
He kisses me again, swallowing my moan as he works me with his fingers, building me up with an expertise that should probably be illegal. He knows my body now, knows exactly how to touch me, and knows the rhythm that will push me over the edge. But just as I’m about to fall apart, he stops.
“What—“ I start to protest, but he’s already lifting me off the counter.
“Bedroom,” he says, his voice strained.
We barely make it to the bedroom door before we’re tearing at each other’s clothes. His jersey gets caught on his head in our haste, and we’re both laughing as I help him free himself, but my laughter dies instantly as soon as the fabric hits the floor.
Becausefuck, he’s gorgeous.
I’ve seen him naked more times than I can count now, but it still hits me like a physical blow. The way his muscles ripple under his skin, the V-cut of his hips, the trail of dark hair that leads down to a cock that’sfuckingmagical… and tonight, I get the added bonus of fucking a champion for the first?—
“Your turn,” he says, his hands already at the zipper of my dress.
He’s not slow or subtle about it, ripping the zipper down and helping me out of the dress. It pools at my feet, leaving me in just my bra, and the way he looks at me—like I’m something precious and powerful andhis—makes me feel like a goddess.
“Come here,” I whisper, backing toward the bed.
“Condom,” he pants, reaching for the nightstand, but I catch his wrist.
“Don’t bother.”
He freezes, his eyes searching mine. “Maya?—“
“I’ve been on the pill,” I say, my voice steady despite the way my heart is racing. “Since the day after the run.”
The look on his face—shock morphing into awe and then into something so deep and overwhelming it makes my chest ache—is everything. I gesture him to me, and we tumble onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs and laughter that quickly turns into something else as skin meets skin.
“You mean?—“
“No barriers,” I confirm. “Not anymore. Not between us.”
He makes a sound that’s half-laugh, half-sob, and then he’s kissing me like I’m oxygen and he’s been drowning. His handsare shaking as they map my body, like this is the first time all over again, like the absence of that thin layer of latex has changed everything.
And maybe it has.
When he slides inside me, bare, he gasps at the sensation. “Fuck,” he breathes against my neck. “You feel incredible.”
The new sensation seems to power his engine like nitrous, so powerful I can’t form words. I can barely hold on as he moves, the adrenaline from his victory still singing in his veins. Each thrust is both wonderful and relentless at the same time, like if he stops for a second, slows down even slightly, he’ll lose this.
“Think you can keep up, Hayes?” he pants, increasing his pace, and there’s a challenge in his voice that makes me grin.
“First gear?” I laugh, knowing exactly how to poke his ego so he’ll push himself—pushus—harder and closer to where we want to get.
I push at his shoulders, using his momentary surprise to flip us so I’m on top. The position change makes us both moan, and I take a moment to just look at him, sprawled beneath me, his hands gripping my hips, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he says, and the raw honesty in his voice makes me flush.
“Sweet talker,” I tease, starting to move, finding a rhythm that has his head dropping back against the pillows.
“Truth teller,” he corrects, his hands sliding up to cup my breasts, thumbs circling my nipples.
I ride him with abandon, chasing my pleasure and his, loving the way he watches me, the way his abs flex as he meets my movements. One of his hands drops between us, his thumb finding my clit, and the added stimulation has me crying out.
