Page 52 of Haven

He drives his hips relentlessly against me.

Just when I’m not sure I can take any more, he wraps a hand around my throat, cupping my jaw, and pulls my back up against his chest. Then he bites down on my ear, and as my world comes into hyperfocus, he growls, “Breathe, Ashlyn.”

His hips slow as if moving in time with each shallow breath that leaves my lips. Andoh my God, it’s like every sensation is magnified. Every nerve ending raw and crackling with the heat of a thousand suns. Scorching me.

This man...Oh God.

He’s controlling my movements.

My pleasure. My breathing.

And I’m giving it all over to him, willingly.

Trusting him with my body and my heart.

Pleasure thickens my veins as a twin pulse beats in my ears and throbs in my pussy.

I shiver, wanting and so needy, as Brandon’s thumb rubs against my thrumming pulse, and his hot breath skates over my ear. “You’re so close, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yes,” I breathe out in a quiet, raspy moan and loop my arm back around his neck.

Our bodies move together. Soaring. Pleasure pushing us higher and higher.

“Should I let you come, Ashlyn?”

Holy shit. Why are those words coming out of his mouth so fucking hot? The noise that slips past my lips sounds foreign and distant as I reach back and circle my other arm around him, moving with him until we’re both desperate and sweaty. Until we’re moving as one. Until I can’t possibly last another second.

He growls in my ear, “Come now, Ashlyn,” and his fingers find my pussy. He runs it along my drenched lips, then pinches my clit as his grip on my throat tightens, and a searing heat covers my skin as I shatter.

Exploding like a kaleidoscope of colorful fireworks on the Fourth of July.

Brandon thrusts into me again and again, and I swear to God, it’s like a never-ending orgasm. Every inch of my skin is alive. Hypersensitive and red hot.

His hand slips away from my throat and cups my breast, palming it with his deliciously callused skin. Fucking me over and over until I’m screaming.Practically sobbing.

One orgasm rolls into another until my voice is hoarse and my body limp.

Until his strength is the only thing holding me up. Holding all the broken pieces together.

Until a raw, guttural sound rips from his chest.

Until he slams into me one last time and roars, my name a benediction on his lips.

When we fall to the bed, tangled and sated, I know without a doubt, nothing will ever be the same. “Brandon,” I whisper, completely raw. Vulnerable and unsure what I’m even trying to say.

He curls his strong arms around me, dragging my back to his broad chest. I bury my face in the pillow, not wanting him to see the tears in my eyes, not sure why I’m crying or what this foreign feeling is.

“Sleep, Ashlyn.” He presses a long kiss to my head.

And it’s there, in his arms, that I figure it out.

That feeling.

Those tears.

It’s safety. Security. Peace.

Three things I’ve never known before.

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