He rocked me onto my back and spread my legs wider, his hands pressing my thighs up to my chest. I held my legs behind the knees to keep them open for him. He stroked over my pussy, trailed one finger over the lips, still wet and tender. It seemed from the determined set of his jaw, the concentration that narrowed his eyes that Drake took my praise as a challenge.
I trembled a little, not sure what was next. I had an orgasm in bed with this man, and instead of taking his own pleasure and finishing, he looked ready to work me over again, his iron control incredible. I held my legs, opened myself to him. With his knuckle, he brushed the sensitive lips and then breached my sex, uncurling his finger within me and making a beckoning motion that stroked a secret spot inside me. I cried out as he dipped his head to lap at my clit. A second finger joined the first and as he made a scissoring motion inside me, I jerked and writhed, the orgasm roaring through me like I’d rushed to the top of a hill on a roller coaster only to plummet down too fast.
He finished me with his mouth, fingers deep inside me. I clenched and trembled around him, flailing in his grip. I wept then, tears streaming down my face from the intensity of the sensation he had given me. Drake looked up, his face between my thighs. Seeing my extreme reaction, he stopped and withdrew his hand.
He moved up my body and lay beside me again. He brushed back my tumbled hair and looked at me, concern on his face. I just rolled onto my side and buried my face in his shirt. His arms went around me, and he didn’t make a fuss that I got emotional during sex.
As I nestled in his strong arms, I played with his shirt, tugging it up until I could get it off of him. Then I greedily ran my palms up his torso, taking in the ridge of his abs, the muscles of his sides and his pectorals. I pressed a kiss to his chest, and then another. He rolled onto his back with a groan. A glimpse south of his torso told the story of why he sounded so anguished. Through his jeans a rock-hard shaft at least nine inches long was outlined clearly.
I mouthed his nipple, kissed his neck, and enjoyed making him start to lose some of that impressive control. I squeezed his biceps, nipped at his throat and watched him come undone. His hand in my hair kept me right at the spot on his neck where he liked it, and when his fingers tightened in my curls it spurred me on to rake my teeth against his throat right there. He rolled his hips as if he couldn’t help it. I reached for him then, my hand stroking his erection through the denim. I felt the wet spot on the fabric where his precum had left a mark.
I wanted him so much that I couldn’t even attempt to speak. I worked the button and zipper open, his hips pumping against my hands. I reached inside his boxers to the hot, silken length of his big, fat cock. I couldn’t get my fingers all the way around it, but my sex clenched eagerly.
I wanted it in me. I gasped as my fingers reached the wet, weeping tip of his dick. I looked up and met his eyes, the almost painful tightness around his mouth as he tried to hold himself together under my touch. He lifted his hips for me, and I jerked his pants and boxers down. Drake grabbed my thigh. I shrieked, laughing with surprise, as he drew my leg across his body and settled me on top of him. He gritted his teeth and surged upward into me, sheathing his long, thick cock in my dripping pussy. I gasped with my fingers gripping his arms for balance. I shifted on my knees, spread my legs more, trying to accommodate his size. The slick heat of his bare cock inside me was a jolt of pleasure in itself.
With visible effort, he sat up on the bed and pulled me against his chest. Drake held me close, pumped his hips and rocked into me. He set a smooth, lush rhythm, somehow restraining himself despite the massive proof of his arousal that was stuffing me full so that I couldn’t move a single centimeter. I pushed and rocked against him, and then surrendered.
He anchored me to his chest with one arm and gripped my hip with his other hand, guided me and moved me the way he liked it until pleasure built in me, threatening to overflow. I clung to him, tipped my face up and he kissed me, tender and filthy at once. One last surge of his hips thrust him so deep inside me that his balls rubbed my tender lower lips. Helpless, I shuddered and cried out his name as the orgasm threatened to destroy me.
At the same moment, Drake roared, his head going back, and the hot, sweet burst of his climax pumped into me. My body clenched, gripping him hard, milking every drop from him. His mouth came down over mine, hard and wild, our tongues mating as our bodies were wrung out with pleasure. It was explosive, heart stopping, and I never wanted it to end. I flung both arms around him and he held me so tightly I could hardly breathe as we kissed and kissed, the taste of sweat, the scent of sex all around us.
He lay back on the pillows, taking me with him. I was sprawled across his chest, still trembling from the force and shocking intimacy of our lovemaking. Drake had pulled me on top of him, had set me on his lap and rocked deep inside me until we came together. It had been an earth-shattering sexual experience that felt so much deeper than the physical alone. I laid my cheek over his heart and listened to its riotous pounding. My tongue darted out and tasted the sweat on his chest. Everything about him was irresistible. This hadn’t done a damn thing to cool my attraction to him. It had just made things a thousand times worse. I was going to crave him now like a drug. I already did.
Eventually I rolled off of him and he tucked me into his side. I slept in his arms, so safe, so happy. When I woke, I was alone in his bed. I reached for his pillow and breathed in the scent of him and slept on.
CHAPTER 23
DRAKE
Realistically I knew that making her eggs the morning after didn’t make me less of a jerk. I felt like a grade-A asshole for taking advantage of Carla’s emotional state and kissing her mouth when she tried to give me a polite kiss on the cheek.
I had known exactly where it would lead. The second my tongue slid in her mouth, and I had my first taste of her, the die was cast. We’d burn up the sheets all night. There was no stopping and no looking back. I knew how combustible we were on a normal day. After the horror and grief of yesterday, she would’ve turned to me for comfort. When I’d made a big deal about giving her the key and been really clear that I wasn’t going to sleep with her, I had meant it. But when I kissed her, I meant that too.
I hadn’t been this confused about a woman since I was seventeen years old and had no idea what to do with one. If there was a woman out there who could bring even a seasoned bachelor to his knees, it was Carla Russo.
While I fried bacon, I beat myself up for last night. I couldn’t take it back, but I could apologize and let her know it was a mistake. I was low-key rehearsing what I would say to her without making excuses when she walked in. I dropped the goddamn spatula I was holding when I saw her.
She walked into the kitchen wearing only my t-shirt that covered her to the midthigh. All the rest of those long legs that had been wrapped around me when she wrung the strongest orgasm of my life out of me were exposed to the light. I wanted to rip off the shirt and drop to my knees and taste her, hook one of those long legs over my shoulder and eat her out for breakfast. I may have made a strangled sound of misery. Then the bacon in the skillet popped and spattered hot grease on my arm.
“Shit!” I said, stepping back and wiping my arm off. Then I turned to her. “I mean, good morning.”
She grinned, a wide, too-happy smile that I felt awful about. She probably thought since she was staying with me that she needed to act like I hadn’t been an insensitive alpha male asshole the night before. Even though pretending didn’t seem much like the Carla I knew, I still hated myself for her smile perhaps most of all.
She sidled up to me and slid her arms around my waist. She was lifting her face for a kiss. Jesus. This could not happen again. I stepped back out of her reach.
“Breakfast is ready,” I said brightly and directed her to a stool at the bar. I slid eggs and bacon onto a plate and poured her some orange juice.
“Thanks, it smells delicious,” she said, taking a bite of her crisp bacon. “Yum!”
I sat down and ate my eggs in silence. When I glanced at her, she was gobbling down her breakfast and even snitched a slice of my bacon with a naughty smile on her face.
“Listen,” I said.
“Is this about the bacon? Are you weird about sharing food?” she teased. I shook my head.
“I wish that was all. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about last night, but I can promise it won’t happen again. It was a mistake and I take full responsibility for taking advantage of you. So, let’s not discuss it any further. In fact, if we never mentioned it again for the rest of my life, that would really be my preference,” I said, not even able to meet her eyes.
“Of course,” she said, her voice sounding odd. She drained the rest of her juice and hurried her dishes to the sink. “I’m going to take a shower.”