Need You Now (1001 Dark Nights)(22)

My legs wrap his waist, and I anxiously close my hand around his shaft, guiding him inside me. Instantly, he pulls me down hard on top of him, until I have all of him, and then we are moving. I lift up and he drags me to him. Faster and harder, our pace is frenzied, our bodies grinding. Jensen shifts us for a better angle, pressing his back against the wall, his hips angled in a way so that he is almost in a squat as I ride him.

I don’t know how he manages to hold us, but the sounds of his pleasure, low and guttural, drive me insane. They spike that extra edge of arousal I need and a tight ball of pressure in my lower belly begins to form, the beginnings, I am certain, of another orgasm. Desperate to be there, I lean into him, holding onto his neck, and that’s when those damn voices return, and this time they are so loud, they refuse to be dismissed. I jerk my head up at the realization they are coming from the patio to our right.

“Easy,” Jensen whispers again, and even now, when we are a snap from getting busted, there is a calmness about him I find as intoxicating as I do the fact that he is buried deep inside me. Straightening, he quietly moves to the sliding glass door, curtains fluttering where the door is already open. Relief washes over me as we enter the privacy of the suite, directly inside the bedroom, the dim light from the living area casting us in a barely-there glow.

Jensen leaves the door open, the curtains closed, carrying me to the bed and laying me down. Fisting his hands on the bed on either side of me, he leans over me. Our eyes collide, and our now familiar connection punches me in the chest. The impact has the room shifting and turning, my stomach fluttering in a way that simple sex does not create. I don’t know what is happening to me, what he is making me feel, but it terrifies me. He is sex, an escape, not someone to fall for. A man I know is here today, but I expect to be gone tomorrow, even if he does live in New York.

“What are you thinking?”

I open my mouth and shut it, playing the same proverbial dodge ball I had earlier. “Nothing I’m willing to say.”

His hands slide up and down my legs, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “Then I’m clearly not doing a good job of being convincing.”

“You’re pretty convincing,” I assure him breathlessly.

“Irresistibly convincing is what I’m after.” His expression darkens wolfishly and he lifts my ankles to his shoulders, his gaze holding mine, almost in challenge. “And your pleasure, of course.” He thrusts into me, once, twice, again. I make sounds I don’t even recognize as coming from me. His sounds are so low and sexy they ensure I make more of my own. A few more thrusts and he lingers in a deep part of me, his jaw flexing, and he flattens his hands on the front of my thighs, slowly pulling back until he is barely inside me. Another teasing pause follows before he drives into me, pulling out and doing it again, over and over, and where there had been the crash of waves outside, here there is only his breathing, my breathing, and sex that is raw and brutal in the most arousing of ways.

Our urgency builds, a tight knot of tension between us that we both seem to be trying to release. I lift my hips and he shifts his, his palm sliding under my backside, as he presses into a spot so sweet, I gasp and then tense, shocked as I am rocked into near orgasm. Another pump of his cock and “near” becomes “now.” My body tenses and my sex spasms around him. He flattens his hands on the back of my thighs instead of the front, anchoring me for a deeper thrust that has him shuddering his release with me.

Time seems to fade in and out, my own pulse thrumming in my ears, a low animalistic sound coming from me or him, or both of us, and then there is just breathing. He lowers my legs and settles between them, his arms at my sides, his forehead on my belly. Slowly, my hands settle on his head, on the softness of his hair, and I feel this surprising level of comfort in the passing moment I don’t expect to feel. Neither of us rush to move, and my lashes are heavy, my body sated.

Finally though, he shifts on top of me, and raises his head, announcing, “I think we have a problem, Danny.”

My pulse leaps with the shock of his declaration. He’s not feeling the cool, calm connection of the after-sex bliss I am. He pushes off the bed and I prepare to scramble for a blanket, but don’t get the chance. He shocks me by shackling my wrist and pulling me to my feet with him.

“What are you doing?” I ask, hoping this isn’t the moment he kicks me out. Would he do that? And how do I gracefully get my clothes from the patio and leave if he does?

“I’m pretty sure my back is bleeding,” he announces, releasing me to grab a tissue from the nightstand he proceeds to use as he peels off the condom and turns to toss it in the trashcan.

My eyes widen as I see his scraped, bleeding back and I step to him, grabbing more tissues to press them to the spot that is oozing. “Yes. You are. Oh God, Jensen. You’re a scraped mess.”

He glances over his shoulder at me. “I’ll survive. I just don’t want to bleed all over the hotel room or you.”

I peek under the tissue. “It’s not deep, but I think outdoor sex was a little more dangerous than we thought.”

He drags me around in front of him. “It was a damn turn on is what it was, and worth a few scrapes.” He draws my hand in his. “Come shower with me.” His eyes light with mischief. “I need someone to wash my back.”

I’m smiling as he drags me forward, relieved that sense of comfort I’d had with him had been real, but I dig in my heels at a ringing sound coming from the patio. “My phone. I need to answer that.” I tug on my hand, trying to free it, but he holds on.