Page 57 of A Very Titan Christmas
His fingers worked until she writhed.
“Bryce, God, please.”
He nipped and sucked on her neck. “Now. Rach. Now.”
She came, bucking against his hand, crying out his name on a moan that shuddered through her body.
“Good fuckin’ girl.”
She met his eye, and her body pulsed with pleasure as the wind howled. A rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. The snowstorm would be here sooner than expected. She and Bryce would be snowed in and might never leave her bed.
He sheathed himself with protection and returned to her side.
Bryce raised her arms over her head. His fingers interlocked with hers, and he covered her with his weight and strength. “Take me, Rach.”
She opened to him. Nerves skittered in her chest. The head of his erection pressed into her. Their hands tightened. He pushed into her, stealing her breath and taking her gasps as encouragement.
Bryce filled her. His mouth consumed her. His hands tightened on hers, every flex of his corded body against her a contrast to her softness.
His breath drew ragged.
She teetered on the edge of another orgasm. The drumming, spiraling arousal tightened, tightened until she raged like the brewing snowstorm and fell apart as thunder cracked.
“Fuck,” he growled. With his lips on her neck and his face buried against her hair, Bryce drove into her.
Her hips rolled with his. His power surrounded her. This was more than sex and orgasms and need. It was an addictive desire, deeper and more encompassing than she could understand.
She wanted him now and again. All of him. The man he’d grown into. And she wanted him without pretense, separate from the show they’d been putting on for the world—and for each other. They would figure it all out. She didn’t know how or when. Just that they would.
Another blood-boiling orgasm scorched her.
Bryce flexed and thrust through aftershocks so powerful they almost hurt until his release barreled through him. He gasped, groaned, and held himself deep inside her. She felt him quake and wrapped her arms around him as his strength left his grip.
Her breaths were still labored. He kept himself from crushing her and nuzzled her neck as if marking her, as if he was satisfied but still needed more of her.
She understood that because his actions mirrored everything at play inside of her. She kissed his temple and closed her eyes. Bryce eased himself away from her body, and her need to be in his arms again was as strong as it had been before he had laid her on the bed.
He took care of their protection and returned to her side, pushing the hair off her face. Then he smiled. It crushed her heart in a heady, euphoric way. She was falling in love with him again; it was deliriously, spectacularly awesome.
*
Rachel woke upto silence. Soft gray morning light filtered through the little windows covered with icy frost, but she could see that the cabin was wrapped in feet of thick, heavy snow. Outside the warm confines of her cabin, everything was still. Not even a bird chirped. The landscape was painted in a dreamy white.
Alongside Bryce, she stretched beneath the thick heirloom quilt. Her sore muscles ached with pleasure. He held her. Clung to her. Even as he’d slept, he hadn’t let go of her, and her heart had thundered when she thought of the way they’d first come together and then did so again after they reheated lunch. Andthen yet again, as the worst of the snowstorm blew in with wind, and thunder, and muted claps of lightning.
She studied his sleeping face. All the sharp lines and tension were sleep-softened. She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to wake him. Because yesterday felt a universe away, and there was the chance all might change if she stirred him back to life.
His eyes opened slowly. Bryce focused on her. She held her breath until this rugged man—her man—showed that he was unguarded and open to whatever was happening between them. Her heart knotted.
“Morning,” he rasped.
“Hey,” she said more softly than she intended and cleared her throat. “Do you always sleep like the dead?”
A sleep-drenched smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “Only when I’m in bed with you.”
Her insides curled as if little snow fairies fluttered in her tummy. The cabin hummed quietly around them. The snow-blanketed outside world muffled all her worries and insecurities. If they could stay like this, then she wouldn’t have to admit out loud that last night held more weight than it was supposed to. But if she didn’t say something, and they had very different views about yesterday, she would be heartbroken.
“About this.” She gestured around her bedroom instead of between them. “About last night.”
