Before Jamaica Lane (On Dublin Street, #3)(50)

I lay there, staring at my ceiling, feeling his mouth under my ear again and his soft murmur, ‘Sweet spot.’

We’d started this because of my inexperience, but even to me, the inexperienced, this felt like a seduction, not an education in seduction. I bit my lip and stared at the doorway waiting for him to come back. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this was what it was: all part of building my sexual confidence and experience.

I dreamt of your legs that night. I dreamt they were wrapped around my back while I f*cked your brains out.

Or maybe it was an excuse to give in to the attraction that had always been there? Attraction we denied because of our friendship.

Nate appeared back in the doorway, his eyes devouring every inch of me as he prowled toward me.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

As he crawled up my body, ripped the condom wrapper with his teeth and rolled one onto his impressive hard-on, I forcefully shoved the maybes to the bottom of my pit of denial. Right then I didn’t care why we were doing this. I just cared that we were doing it.

His hand coasted up my torso and I arched my back into his touch, a blaze of heat lighting me up from the inside out as he rubbed his thumb over my nipple while his other hand slid between my legs. While he coaxed my clit to attention with his thumb, his erection strained, and I couldn’t stop looking at it.

‘Now.’ I tilted my hips against his touch. ‘Nate, come inside me. Please.’

He groaned at my invitation, gently pushing my legs farther apart before bracing himself over me. His kiss was long and deep.

I felt him brush against me and to my surprise I tensed.

The last time a guy shoved inside of me it had hurt.

‘Ssh,’ he whispered across my lips, his hand slipping between our bodies again, his thumb finding my clit. ‘Babe, it’ll be okay. Just keep looking at me.’

I relaxed, my eyes locked with his. And then he was pushing inside of me, hands on the mattress at the side of my head to hold himself up. His eyes darkened as he pressed through the tight resistance of my body, my muscles squeezing around him. I stifled a whimper. It was uncomfortable. Not painful like last time, but I wasn’t sure if it was pleasant either.

Nate shut his eyes for a second, panting. His arms shook a little.

‘Nate?’ I rested my hands on his waist.

‘I just …’ His lids fluttered open and my inner muscles squeezed him again in response to the sexual heat I saw in his eyes. ‘You feel … amazing,’ he breathed, eyes gleaming. ‘So tight. I’m trying to go gentle, but you feel f*cking amazing.’

Pleased, I caressed his back soothingly and realized that the discomfort was beginning to dissipate. I was suddenly eager to learn more. My hips automatically lifted, seeking movement, and Nate growled, pulling back out of me. Instead of pulling all the way out like I thought he was going to, he thrust back in. I cried out as I felt the stirring of a beautiful tension.

My eyes were locked on his face, mesmerized by his expression, by the mixture of lust and gentleness in his eyes, by the tautness of his jaw that told me he was clinging to his control.

And he did that for me.

He was slow and tender, his hands gripping my thighs lightly as he slid in and out of me, every stroke a gradual climb toward climax.

His eyes drank me in, watching me pant beneath him, watching my breasts quiver gently against his thrusts, and suddenly he was pushing that little bit harder, moving that little bit faster. ‘Liv, come for me, babe,’ he commanded, his voice guttural. ‘You’ve got to come for me.’

‘I am,’ I promised, lifting my hips against the pumping of his, the coil tightening, tightening, tightening –

Nate’s thumb pressed down on my clit.

I shattered. Loudly. My eyes fluttered behind their lids as my lower body shuddered uncontrollably, jerking hard against Nate as he gripped my hips tightly to his and followed me into climax.

When I finally stopped coming, my muscles relaxed to jelly. I think I melted into my mattress, just barely able to lift my arm and curl a hand around Nate’s nape as he collapsed over me, his head buried in the crook of my neck.

I delighted in the feel of his chest rising and falling quickly against mine, of his warm breath puffing against my skin. We were both slick with sweat and I didn’t care. It felt wonderful.

‘So that’s what real sex is like,’ I breathed, in awe of it and in awe of the pleasure he’d elicited from my barely tried body.

Nate’s lips pressed against my damp neck before he raised his head and pushed himself up. Our eyes met and I stilled. There was something stirring to life in his gaze, something important, possibly profound. Other than when he spoke of Alana, I’d never seen him look so serious. So grave. He stared at me a long moment until … his head jerked back as if I’d said something.

‘Nate?’

His Adam’s apple moved with a hard swallow before he kissed me quickly and rolled off of me.

I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say.

Instead I lay there as he walked out of the room. I listened as I heard the water running in the bathroom and then the toilet flushing. There was rustling in the living room and I heard a thump, like a boot against my wooden floor.

That got me up.

I tugged on my sheet, hauled it off the bed and wrapped it around me.

Wandering out of the bedroom, I found him shrugging his jacket on.