Page 24 of Under Pressure

He rocks into me, slowly and gently, and my soft sigh of pleasure fills the room. He sinks deep, and hot desire races through me. I move beneath him, my body tight and aching. He goes back on one elbow and his other hand spreads over my stomach, warming my skin, and filling me with erotic sensations. God, I love the familiar way he touches me, his tender lovemaking.

Lovemaking?

I never thought so before, but everything in his touch, in the way he looks at me, is so deeply caring that I can’t help but wonder.

“This what you wanted, Reese?” he asks, his voice so deep I hardly recognize it. “To feel me like this? No barriers. Just you and me.”

“Yes, it feels so good.”

“Yeah, it fucking does.” With a heavy breath, he lowers his head and captures my nipple. I swallow against the pleasure. His muscles flex as he powers into me, and I’m so lost in him I say, “Cole, I love…”

I pause, and my lids flash open as I catch myself.

“What do you love?” he asks, his deep-blue eyes drilling into me, and for a minute I fear he can see right into my soul. Then again, this is Cole, so maybe he can.

“I love this,” I say quickly to cover my near slip, but when I see something in his eyes, something I thought I spotted that day we were cage diving, my heart misses a beat. Is it possible that he feels more, too? Do I dare hope that what we’re doing here really is making love? Even if it is, though, how could we possibly make it work? We live on opposite sides of the country, and I’d never ask him to give up what he loves, or try to change him. Then again, I could move. Yeah, all my family and work are in New York. But Cole isn’t. Who’s to say he’d want me there, anyway? I pinch my eyes shut, my heart a confused mess.

He moves faster, penetrating deeper, creating a friction that has my inner muscles spasming and my thoughts spiraling out of control. Pleasure gathers and comes to a peak.

“I feel you,” he whispers. “You’re tightening around my cock, and it feels so fucking good, baby.”

Every muscle in my body begins convulsing, as I shut my eyes and come all over his cock. My body trembles, shakes, and shudders as I moan in complete bliss.

“Fuuuck,” he murmurs into my mouth. “You are so hot.”

He slams into me, once, twice, then stills, spurting his hot cum high inside me. I squeeze around him, not wanting to lose a drop. He buries his face in my neck, his deep rhythmic breaths scorching my flesh as he pants. We both breathe together, cocooned against each other, and after a moment he lifts his head, his gaze meeting mine. One big hand goes to my hair, and he leans close, smoothing it from my forehead. Another soft kiss brushes my lips, warm, sensual…soul-stirring. My heart pounds so hard with the love I feel for him, I’m sure he can feel it.

“Did that work?” he asks, as his lips continue to brush gently over mine.

“Did what work?”

He grins. “Did all that kissing, and, you know, the sex and orgasms help distract you from the storm?”

“Storm?” is all I can manage to say, my post-orgasm brain still not working.

He laughs and falls into the bed beside me. “Guess so. We’ll have to remember this game, Reesey Piecey.”

Game?

Oh, right, I asked him to play a game with me. So, this wasn’t lovemaking, after all.

It was just a sexy distraction.

Chapter Eight

Cole

Sitting in the cramped airplane as we approach the JFK runway, I steal a glance at Reese, and my heart squeezes so tight I can barely breathe.

She loves me.

I know her better than she knows herself, and I’ve been so goddamn caught up in my thoughts, so worried about losing her, that I haven’t been thinking clearly. But what I realized last night as we lost ourselves in each other is that little Reesey Piecey fucking loves me.

She fucking loves me.

And now I finally get it. She’s pushing me away on purpose. I love her for it. I really do. I love that she thinks she’s doing what is best for me. But what she doesn’t understand is just how much I love her, too, and nothing is more important to me than being with her, taking care of her, making her happy.

After she’d told me to leave, she said she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Fine, I won’t talk about it, but I damn well plan to show her what she means to me, because no fucking way am I walking away from this without a fight. I plan to win, and the only way I’m going down is if she’s beneath me.

---