Page 67 of The Treasure Hunt Hookup

God, it’s incredible, I’ve never been wild about going down on a man before, but this is something else: power humming through me with every dirty suck. Reeve’s body is tense, jerking desperately against me as I swirl, and lick, and swallow him down. His breath comes in ragged pants, muttering my name, how perfect I am, how fucking good it feels, until finally he drags me up, panting.

“You wanted to shake the damn headboard? Get back there, and hold on.”

My stomach lurches, seeing this new side to him. Dominant, and filthy, and hot as hell. Immediately, I scoot back up the bed, as Reeve sheds the rest of his clothes, and—

“Wait,” I gasp, with the last shred of sense in my mind. “Condoms. My bag,” I gesture vaguely, but he just retrieves his wallet and plucks a packet from inside, tossing them onto the covers beside me.

“You came prepared,” I flush.

“Not yet,” he gives me that familiar teasing smile. “But once I get you out of that lingerie … all bets are off.”

He joins me on the bed, rolling me back into the covers, and kissing me hard. I wrap myself around him, falling into the blazing inferno that is his hands, on me, everywhere.God… He peels off my bra and panties, touching me into a whimpering frenzy as his mouth roams, taunting me,tastingme. I moan aloud, shamelessly begging for more. Fuck, I’ve never given myself up like this, lost all control, but it’s not even a choice right now. This chemistry between us has been a force of nature since the night we met, and surrendering to it now is as natural as breathing.

“Ivy …” Reeve lifts his head from my breasts, his hands still pinching and teasing at my stiff, aching nipples. His hair is a mess and his expression is half-crazed, the way I feel right now. “I don’t know if I can last–”

“Me either,” I gasp, pulling him up to me again. “I need you inside me.Now.”

Reeve groans something that sounds like, “thank fuck” and then he’s rolling on the condom and positioning himself between my thighs. I spread wider for him and sink back into the pillows, but still, nothing can brace me for the incredible sensation of him thrusting inside.

Oh. My. God.

I keen in pleasure, gripping at Reeve’s biceps as the bite gives way to a bone-deep friction, pushing deeper, until he’s buried all the way to the hilt.

Fuck.

We both groan, suspended there for a moment with his cock sheathed so tightly inside, I can barely breathe from the stretch. It’s out of this world, the way he feels inside me.

Then Reeve bends my knee back, up to my chest, and starts to thrust.

God, if I thought I was losing control before … this is pure insanity. An inferno, swallowing us whole. I move with him, faster, deeper,oh, clawing at his back and sobbing for more as the fire burns hotter, and the friction rises, and he fucks me into the mattress in a frenzy that makes me scream his name at the top of my lungs, not caring who the hell might hear.

“Don’t stop!” I cry, so close. So fucking close. “Reeve … Don’t stop!”

“Can’t,” he growls, shifting angles, hitting something deep inside that makes me howl. “Can’t ever stop.”

He thrusts again, groaning with every deep stroke, and the sound of his pleasure is too much for me to take, knowing I did this. Knowing it’s all for me. Christ. I come with a scream, pleasure shattering through me so hard and sweet, I swear I lose my mind.

Reeve swallows my sounds of pleasure, kissing me desperately as he thrusts once, twice again, and then comes with a ragged groan, shuddering inside me as I hold the hell on, still lost in the waves of pleasure from my own release.

What the hell?

I lay there, dazed and gasping, as my epic climax slowly fades away. Reeve manages to roll off me and dispose of the condom, but then he’s back, pulling me into his arms so we’re both sprawled on the covers, panting and drunk on pleasure.

“So that’s what it’s supposed to be like,” I finally manage to blurt.

Reeve sounds an exhausted laugh. “Apparently. Fuck.”

“Good to know.”

“Uh huh.”

I sit up. “We didn’t break the bed,” I report, looking around. Still, there’s a trail of chaos in our wake: clothing tossed all over the room, and—“When did we knock over that table?” I ask, frowning.

Reeve valiantly lifts his head. “I might have sent it flying while you were giving me the blowjob of the century.”

“Huh,” I smile, proud of my handiwork. And lip service. “Good to know.”

Reeve chuckles, collapsing back into the pillows again. “If you’re fishing for compliments, you don’t have to,” he says, with a sleepy yawn. He yanks me possessively against his chest, nestling me there against him. “You already know that was the goddamn gold medal Olympics of fucking.”

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