Page 26 of Blurred Lines

He glanced at his cock.

“Not only that, stud. I mean everything. I…” I closed my eyes for a second, trying to gather my thoughts. “Don’t hurt me. Please, don’t hurt me.”

“I’ll never hurt you.” Cristian laid his forehead against mine. “Lauren, look at me. I’ll never hurt you, I swear.”

This time, his kiss was tender, and I knew he spoke the truth. Cristian Garza wouldn’t be an easy man to live with, and I’d barely scratched the surface when it came to understanding him, but his motives were pure. I was more than a freaking marketing tool to him.

“Stop overthinking.” He already knew me better than Theo had. “Forget the shit outside and focus on riding my cock. I want to feel your pretty pussy clench around me.”

He gripped my ass with both hands, and when he began to move, my mind emptied. All that mattered was him, me, us. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, our tongues duelling in a battle I’d willingly lose. Cristian was in charge, thrusting as he pulled me onto his cock, over and over, angling his hips so he hit exactly the right spot.

“More,” I begged.

“Patience,” he countered.

But he obliged and lowered his mouth to my breasts, nipping at the pebbled tips until I saw stars. I was lost in sensation, barely connected to my own body as he gave and took at the same time.

“I’m coming,” I choked a heartbeat before I shattered, my head thrown back against the wall as a long moan escaped my throat.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and in that moment, I felt as if I really was.

Still he wasn’t finished. He lowered me to the floor, then positioned me precisely as he wanted me with my hands on the bench at one end of the shower. Now his thrusts were deeper, and he leaned over me, one hand next to mine and the fingers of the other circling my clit. In the past, I’d always felt like a fraud when I wrote about multiple orgasms, but now I found out I hadn’t been lying. He held me up as my knees buckled, then followed me over the edge with a quiet grunt, spilling his warmth deep inside me.

“Holy hotness,” I breathed.

“You mean ‘Hotly.’ Get a spellchecker, babe.”

A laugh burst out of me. Or maybe it was more of a sob of relief. Relief that Cristian hadn’t been mad about my writing, that he’d accepted me for who I was and embraced my flaws. It was too soon to say “I love you,” but I felt it. I felt the unstoppable rush of emotion, of rightness, the certain knowledge that this was the man I was destined to be with.

“What’s next, Mr. Hotly? Do you want to fuck me in the sauna?”

“That could be awkward before closing time. No, I want your hands pressed against the window in my office and your legs spread. I want you to watch the people down below and wonder just how good the mirror coating on the glass is as I fuck you from behind with those luscious breasts bouncing.”

“Are you serious?”

“You don’t have the monopoly on fantasies, princess. We’re doing mine too.”

I could hardly argue. “Uh, how good is the mirror coating?”

He laughed, a deep, throaty chuckle. “You think I’d let you do that if people could see? I don’t like sharing.”

“Could I just take a minute for my legs to recover?”

Cristian planted a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose. “We have all the time in the world.”

Or not.

I was watching Cristian’s reflection in the window, his hips moving against mine, when the knock at the door came. He stilled as I stiffened, and we both whipped our heads around.

Please say that door is locked.

“I’m busy,” he called.

“There’s a lady on the phone, and she won’t take no for an answer. She says her name’s Violet.”

Oh, crap.

“Violet who?”

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