Page 114 of Not Another Yesterday
I can’t take another second without him inside me. Not with the way he’s looking at me. Not with the way my body is buzzing with need.
I shift my weight, lift up just enough to hook my thumbs into the waistband of my panties, then somehow manage to wriggle them down my thighs. They’re soaked. And not from the lake.
Ronan’s jaw flexes, eyes locked on me like he’s barely holding himself together. “Fuck,” he says under his breath, then shoves his boxers down just enough to free his erection. The sight of it makes my mouth water. He’s thick, and long, and so hard.
We don’t speak. We don’t need to.
I rise up on my knees and grip his shoulders for balance while his hands find my hips, anchoring me. I line myself up, his body heat seeping into my skin.
And then I sink down slowly.
The second he begins to slip into me, relief rips through me like lightning. I gasp as he fills me, stretches me, every rock-hard inchof him sliding home with perfect, aching pressure. My head drops forward, forehead pressed to his, our breaths ragged and trembling.
“Fuck,” he groans again, like it’s the only word remaining in his vocabulary, the only word powerful enough for this moment.
We move in tandem. It’s not soft. It’s not slow. We’re not here to take our time. We’re wild and frantic and grasping. My hips rise and fall in a desperate rhythm, and he meets every thrust with one of his own, each one deeper, harder. His hands dig into my hips while mine tangle in his wet hair.
Our mouths find each other again, messy and uncoordinated, more teeth than lips, more panting than kissing.
I arch my back and brace one hand on his chest, then drag my nails down his pecs, leaving angry red trails in their wake.
Ronan sucks a sharp breath in through his teeth. I freeze, worried I hurt him. But then he thrusts into me harder, his jaw clenched tight, eyes blown wide and locked on mine like I’ve just lit him on fire.
Oh.I didn’t hurt him. I drove him wild.
He slams his hips up and into me again, harder than before, and I gasp, letting my head fall back as my body tightens, barreling toward the edge. I do it again. I drag my nails down his shoulders this time, and he groans, deep and guttural, his grip bruising my hips as he pounds into me like he’s chasing something primal.
Every rock of his hips drives me closer to release. I claw at his biceps, somehow trying to ground myself in his skin. “Don’t stop,” I mewl. “Please, don’t stop!”
“I couldn’t if I tried,” he groans, his voice raw and raspy. “You feel so fucking good.”
Every inch of me is on fire with pleasure. He’s everywhere. Under me. Around me. Inside me. My thighs start to shake, my body clinging to his with each thrust.
And then I shatter. “Ran,” I cry out as my orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, relentless, all-consuming. I seize around him, tightening, pulsing with ecstasy.
He buries his face against my neck, groaning as he thrusts twice, three more times before his breath stutters to a halt and he, too, comes, hips jerking, body shuddering under mine.
We don’t move. Not for a long moment. Just panting, shaking, skin to skin, Ronan still inside me, his lips pressed to my collarbone.
Somewhere in the haze, I realize the heater must’ve kicked in. I’m distantly aware of warm air blowing against my back, and for the first time since last night, I’m not cold.
Ronan shifts just enough to meet my eyes. There’s a slow, sated smile on his lips. “Well,” he murmurs, “I think we’ve officially beat the hypothermia.”
I giggle, breathless. “Yeah. I think we’re safe.” But my face falls. “From the hypothermia, at least. What are we gonna do when we get back to the ranch?” I fret. Our clothes are drenched. As it stands, I’ll have to sneak into the house dressed in a blanket while Ronan sports only his wet boxers. Not exactly subtle.
He raises a brow. “Think we can pass this off as another near-death experience?”
Ronan
We drive back to the ranch, Cat wrapped in the blanket like a delicious burrito, curled in the passenger seat with her legs tucked beneath her, hair still damp, cheeks flushed. And me? I’m driving barefoot, half-naked, wearing nothing but a pair of wet boxers and a damn grin that probably screams I’m fucking floating on cloud nine. Cat and I have found our way back to each other, and we just had frantic, chaotic, mind-blowing sex. What more could I want?
I keep having to blast the damn heat. First the windows fogged up with our damn panting, and now it keeps misting over with damp body heat.
“Oh my gosh, Ran, I’m so sorry,” Cat says with a gasp.
I glance over at her, not sure what she’s apologizing for. The foggy windows?
She grazes a finger over my chest. It’s only then I register the sting, the rawness. I glance down andyep. Four angry red scratches rake across my chest, breaking the skin.
