Page 146 of Only in Your Dreams

I thought he was deep before. But at this angle, on elbows and knees with my ass in the air, he slams so far inside me that I’m thrust forward on every pump. He reaches for my shoulder, holding me in place and making me take even more.

The sounds in this room are obscene. Desperate whimpers and hard grunts, skin slapping furiously together, wet sounds as he just fucking possesses me. It’s raw, hard, and relentless. It’s years-worth of need, coming to a point. He claimed it wouldn’t be as romantic as he’d have wanted tonight, but I can’t see it getting any sweeter than this.

“Touch your pussy,” Zac grinds out. “You’re gonna come for me again. Do it now.”

I’m damn near sobbing at his words, tortured and grateful at the same time. I reach between my legs. Peer around for as much of a look at him as I can get. Watching his abs contract with effort as he fucks me, the sweat dripping down his temples. The deep furrow in his brow as he fixates on the sight in front of him, his cock disappearing inside me.

I feel it building again, the hot current burning up my spine, down my legs and I’m face-down on the mattress, crying out, biting down on his sheets. Zac’s thrusts get sloppy. With a breathtaking groan, his body jerks one last time. He tenses, collapses forward so that his forehead hits my shoulder and I mumble senselessly into the mattress, feeling him throb inside me.

“Fucking… Jesus… Clover,” he pants into my skin.

With a pained groan, he pulls out of me and turns me over. He’s gentle with me again, gaze travelling over my face, my limp body. He pushes back the hair stuck to the sweat on my forehead, and I make a weak sound of protest.

I’m lifeless. He’s ruined me. I can’t even see straight.

“Baby, I’m gonna need signs of life. Give me words.”

“Sex coma. Go away.”

Apparently, all attempts at sweetness faded with the third orgasm.

Zac barks out a laugh. He draws back the covers at the head of the bed and drops me carefully onto the soft sheets, tucking me in. When he returns from the bathroom, he crouches at my side.

“You wanna wash up?”

“I can’t get up,” I sigh, feeling pathetically weak. “But I need to get my makeup off.”

Zac disappears into the bathroom, returning with one of the makeup wipes he must have pulled out of my drawer in the vanity. With the same keen focus he had when cleaning me free of mud back at camp, he gently wipes it along my cheeks, forehead. Flips it around and coaxes my eyes shut so that he can carefully work on ridding me of my eyeliner.

“Keep them closed,” he murmurs when I open my eyes, thinking he’s done. He lifts a wet cloth from his lap. “The package says you have to rinse your face after.”

Oh my God, he’s so sweet I can’t stand it.

“You read the directions for makeup wipes?”

“You’re too beautiful to mess around with.” He runs the cloth over my face, as gentle as anything, and kisses the tip of my nose when he finishes.

I never thought I’d feel this way again. Willingly let—want—a man to care for me, dote on me. The way Zac does, it makes every bit of me tingle in the most heavenly way.

“Anything else?” he asks.

“I’m overheating.”

Zac peels his jersey off me and tucks me back in. “What else?”

“Stop being so attentive and spoon me already.”

“There’s my girl,” he says with a laugh. He climbs into bed, pulling me to him. Twists my hair up and out of the way. “At the risk of nauseating you—”

“That was the best sex of my life,” I mumble into our pillow.

Zac kisses the back of my neck. “You’re very welcome.”

Chapter 37

Zac

Iwake up to a slow, steady heartbeat against my cheek.

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