Heartbreaker (Unbreakable #1)(59)

Then he relaxed his movements, his tongue licking in slow, reverent strokes.

My body fell limp, every muscle boneless.

His head fell to the side, his soft hair and the warmth of his cheek resting on my inner thigh.

After long seconds, when he didn’t move, I glanced down. He stared intently at me, pride in his eyes. A smirk tilted one corner of his mouth up.

Lost in a dreamy haze, my lips curved into a lazy smile. “Well done.” The only words that came to mind. Of his performance. Of my sated state.

“Just getting started,” he growled.

His expression grew wild as stark need painted his features. But in the intensity of his gaze, behind those dark eyes, I saw more than sexual hunger. Raw emotion fired brightly there.

I sucked in a slow breath, briefly stunned by the depth of his passion. Then warmth spread through my chest. Because I felt it too, the incredible pull, our solid connection strengthening with not only our physical act…but by finally letting go.

Gaze locked to mine, he turned his head, then pressed a soft kiss to my inner thigh. He shifted his position, arms suddenly bracketing outside my legs, and placed another kiss along the seam where thigh met hip. The scruff of his face scratched a little as he brushed his chin over my hipbone; but his slow exhalation cooled the skin seconds before warm lips caressed the dip below it.

Up he wandered, dotting kisses in a random path to mark the exploration of my body. The brush of his nose under the curve of my breast. The slow lick of his tongue under the other. In the valley between them, he peppered tiny kisses while he inhaled; his eyes rolled back as they drifted closed, as if he drew in our intoxicating scent. The next long, hot exhale worked its magic over my collarbone, then fogged up the side of my neck.

My entire body shuddered. Renewed sensual warmth spread outward to my fingers, my toes. Every nerve ending awakened again, alive and zinging.

His hips settled between my thighs, pushing my legs up and out to make room for him.

The rigid length of his erection pressed against sparking nerves. I sighed as he settled over me, pressing down, arching his pelvis against mine—right where I throbbed the most.

He stared into my eyes, searching.

I smiled up at him.

“Hi.” He let out a shaky breath.

“Hi.”

“Ready?” His gentle questioning tone surprised me.

I almost gave a cute quip in reply.

But then it hit me: Our coming together was as immense for him as it was for me. He’d never allowed anyone into his world—anywhere near his heart–until now.

And I’d not let anyone in either: no one real, no man worth my heart. Until him.

“Yes.” I ran my hands around his waist, up his back. “I want you. All of you.”

Nothing less would do.

After all. He now had all of me.

Joy shone in his eyes seconds before he dipped down and brushed his lips over mine. With a sigh, I melted into him. Grateful for so much, for him, for our finally taking what we’d been denying ourselves—a chance at happiness.

He pressed forward.

I pulled him closer, wrapping my arms and legs around him, holding on tight.

Solid pressure nudged at my entrance.

I pressed a kiss to his neck on a slow exhale, relaxing my body, letting him in.

And in he came. One slow powerful stroke stretched me wide, took me completely. I gasped at the overwhelming feeling, nerve endings sizzling to life once again.

We were one. As he flexed his hips, forward, then back, retreating then surging, I met him in the middle, thrust for thrust, holding on for the ride. Every move he made, I made, together—harmonious.

Pressure mounted with each passing second. Ache intensified with every stimulating undulation. Our bodies instinctively curved and arched, hitting all the right spots, causing pleasure to spark, then grow hotter. A low moan escaped my throat as erotic fire sizzled deep inside me. He groaned, swelling harder, driving deeper.

I gasped, hanging on the edge of pleasurable pain.

He paused, his entire body going rigid in my hold.

Then he plunged deep on an animalistic growl.

I screamed as a second powerful orgasm whipped through me.

Time warped as every tiny thing claimed its split second of awareness. Another powerful spasm of pleasure. The warm solidness of him deep inside me. Our hearts pressed together, beating a frantic rhythm, mine with his. Our labored breaths, mine at the base of his throat, his ruffling the hair above my ear. Everything chaotic had fallen into perfect balance.

As our racing hearts began to slow and our ragged breaths grew more even, he leaned to one side, but tugged me with him. He wrapped a leg over my hip, secured an arm around my back, and pressed a kiss to the top of my head with a long sigh.

Imprisoned in his embrace, I smiled, then burrowed deeper into his hold, seeking all he had to offer. In that rare, blissful, utterly complete moment of happiness with him, no part of me wanted anything else.



At some point in the dark early-morning hours, after a headboard-banging round three, he curled onto his left side with a satisfied sigh and I spooned behind him, sliding my hand under his arm and across his chest. He clasped my hand, then pressed a kiss over my knuckles. His lips lingered there, brushing across my fingers while my attention strayed to the thick curving lines of ink on his skin.

“Tell me about your tattoos.”

His mouth left my hand, then he pressed my palm to the center of his chest and held it there, over his heart.