Page 35 of The Secrets He Keeps

His body was drawn taut and his head was thrown back. The cords of muscles in his throat stood out and his arms bulged with strain as he held her hips in his large splayed hands. Pleasure had nearly consumed him. He was perilously close to the edge. A few quick snaps of her hips, a squeeze of her inner muscles, perhaps a teasing pinch of his nipples or a bite on his shoulder and he would fall apart.

As she braced herself to finish him off, a dull regret spread through her chest. She wasn’t ready for it to end.

In her brief moment of hesitation, he opened his eyes. A fiercely lit gaze met hers and she suddenly felt as though he could see straight through to the darkest pit inside her. He saw it and claimed it in an instant as he sat up and rolled them both over.

In a breath, she was on her back. His cock remained deep inside her as he settled between her thighs. Reaching for her hands, he held them to the mattress beside her head. She lifted her knees, expecting him to start a fast, punishing rhythm to claim his release. Instead, he stilled completely.

The only movement was their chests expanding and contracting with their deep and even breaths.

“You think this is over?” he asked, circling his pelvis in a subtle motion that sent tingling sparks through her core. She bit her lip to hold back the gasp rising in her throat. He smiled. Wicked. Knowing.

Too knowing.

She felt exposed and vulnerable in a way she had never known. And she’d experienced helplessness a hundred ways in her life. It was a feeling she abhorred and spent a great deal of effort avoiding at all costs. Yet this man managed to invoke this unprecedented emotion with a smile.

She might have hated him a little bit in that moment.

“I think you’ve proven your abilities, Mr. Maxwell,” she stated as evenly as she could considering how favorably her body was responding to his physical dominance.

His eyes narrowed at her reply. The light in their depths flickered with something dangerous that stalled her breath even though his expression remained calm. And frustratingly patient. “You speak of sexual gratification, madam. Pleasure is easy to come by and fleeting.”

As if to prove his point, he circled his hips again—a deeper, lusher movement that ground his pelvic bone against her clitoris and touched on all her pleasure points.

She arched her spine and tried to roll her hips, seeking more. But he held her too securely, his body pinning hers. Only he had freedom of movement.

“This,” he continued in a gravelly voice as he gave a short, shallow thrust inside her, “is something far more precious.”

Though her heart lurched and her belly twisted, she stared boldly up at him and forced a flippant reply. “This...is fucking.”

There was a flicker of disappointment in his eyes, there and gone in a flash. But she saw it—felt it. Her next breath was tight as his lips widened slowly into that smile again. The one that said he knew what she was doing and confidently declared her ploy wouldn’t work. The one that promised to give her exactly what she wanted even if she couldn’t admit what that was.

Lowering his head, he took her mouth in a kiss with that smile still spreading his lips. She felt it, tasted its dark and lovely sweetness, took the promise of it into herself before he murmured heavily against her lips. “If that’s what you believe, then fine. Let’s fuck.”

He shifted his hold on her hands, interlocking his fingers with hers as he straightened his arms to hold himself above her. Bending his knees, he brought them under her thighs, lifting her hips to accept the deep, full strokes of his cock.

Her body ignited with sensation.

Planting her feet on the mattress, she rolled her hips to meet and accept every thrust.

Yes. This was what she wanted. The power of primal mating. The mindless physical hunger. The reckless, personal striving for sexual satisfaction. She arched and writhed. She tensed and bucked and moaned while he brought her higher and higher with every plunge of his body into hers.

Finally, when she neared the peak, felt the crest beginning to break, sensed the imminent approach of an orgasm that promised to destroy her, she met his gaze again.

And knew in an instant—he was right.

Pleasure exploded like a star throughout her being. Reaching every corner, brightening every dark secret she’d ever possessed, bringing the truth into stark, undeniable view.

And through it all—the gasping, trembling, pulsing release—she couldn’t look away from him. She was bound by his gaze. Bound by his pleasure when he finally gave himself over to his own climax with a harsh growl that satisfied a deep animalistic craving she hadn’t known existed within her.

She saw the spark of power in his eyes. The possession. The truth.

For those long moments while their bodies communicated in a far more succinct and powerful way than words could ever achieve, she did indeed revel in the beauty of it all.

But feelings so intense and powerful cannot last forever.

Eventually, the trembling slowed, sweat dried, heart rates returned to normal, and Callista’s chest tightened with the press of undeniable reality.

She might have experienced something that far surpassed every expectation or understanding of what was possible, but now it was over. The man who’d been so generous and perfect might still be pressing soft kisses to her eyelids, the corners of her mouth, the pulse at the base of her throat, while his member remained hot inside her. But soon, he’d roll from the bed, perhaps mutter a quick thank you, and then leave.

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