Crazy (The Gibson Boys #4)(55)

I watch with rapt attention as his Adam’s apple bobs with a heavy swallow. His eyes cast down, and when he looks up, I see a struggle in his eyes. “I did this wrong, Dylan.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I should have taken the time to kiss you more.”

“We kissed in the kitchen, Peck. Checked that box,” I say, bringing a finger down and then back up in a check mark motion in the air.

He grins. “But not like I wanted to.”

“Then kiss me now.”

Strong hands take hold of my face with such care that I cover his hands with mine, feeling weak in the knees. I close my eyes just as our lips press together for the first time in a caress. Our tongues meet, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders, never wanting this moment to end.

When it does, I’m left breathless and sit on the edge of the bed before lying down. “Are you going to leave me waiting? Again?”

“No ma’am, I’m not.” His pulls his boxers down, and every thought I ever had about him below the waist were wrong. He’s better.

He catches me staring.

“Sorry,” I say.

“You know how to build a guy’s ego.”

“Judging by what I see, you have every right to be downright arrogant.”

When he laughs, I smile with him. Whatever this is between us is nice. Hovering over me, he leans down and kisses me again. “So do you. You’re gorgeous and so fucking sexy.”

Since my panties were left on the kitchen floor, there’s nothing between us.

He shifts his weight so the head of his cock presses against my opening. I gasp at the contact despite expecting it. Despite wanting it.

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. I reach up and place my palm on the side of his neck. His heartbeat pounds against my hand, and I feel mine amp up to match.

“Peck …” I whisper.

Our gazes lock, the heat between us sizzling. I try to look away but can’t. He holds me in place with nothing but a look as he moves his hips.

Inch by inch, he fills me.

“Oh, my gosh,” I pant.

“Open for me, baby.” It’s a command, there’s no doubt about it, but it’s said with such a sweetness that I think I might fall apart already.

My knees fall farther to the sides. He slides inside me, fulling seating himself inside my body.

“Damn it,” I whimper.

He closes his eyes and doesn’t move. The vein in his neck throbs in a look so sexy that I shudder.

His head dips, his mouth covering mine. I press my hands to his chest and then run them up to his shoulders. The muscles flex as he moves, rocking himself into me.

The blanket is soft against my back, his arms hard on either side of me. It’s an overwhelming contrast of sensations. I gasp for air but am cut off by his kisses.

Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back into the mattress. He doesn’t relent, covering me with kisses, licks, and nibbles across my mouth, jaw, and neck.

I’ve never felt this treasured, this desired, by anyone in my entire life.

“Peck,” I pant, holding his face in my hands.

“Yes, beautiful?”

I grin, bringing his lips back to mine.

“You feel so good,” he whispers, dragging his hands up my arms when I raise them above my head and loop my fingers around the rails of the headboard.

“You feel amazing,” I say.

He pulls out, taunting my clit, before dipping inside me again.

“Do that a couple more times,” I groan, pleasure ripping through my body, “and I’ll come.”

“I’m having to think about fishing so I don’t lose it right now,” he says with a chuckle.

I clench my muscles. He feels it because his eyes widen.

“You do that a couple more times, and this is over,” he warns.

I lock my legs around him. Digging my heels into the small of his back, I look him right in the eyes and clench again.

“Dylan …”

He slides in and out, hitting the spot that brings me closer and closer to an orgasm.

“Right … there,” I say.

It feels so good it almost hurts.

“Look at me,” he says. “I want to watch you come.”

I do. And when I do, that’s it. It’s all it takes.

I clench again, a mass of colors tangling through my vision as I melt around him.

His name screams from my lips as a rush of fire floods my veins. He presses harder, faster, driving me into the mattress as he finds his end.

“Fuck,” he groans. He stills inside me.

I watch him fall apart. His eyes squeezed closed, his jaw tightened, his biceps strained as he gloriously hits his climax.

The ringing of a bell accompanies our victory lap.

Wait …

He pushes up and looks me in the eyes. “Do you smell smoke?”

I sit up.

“The steaks!” He runs out of the room, and I hear the back door slam against the stopper. “Fuck,” echoes from outside.

I hurry into the kitchen. The smoke from the grill has filled the house. I rush over to shut the door but stop when Peck comes inside with the steaks stiff between the tongs … naked.

“Oh, my gosh,” I say, wiping back tears from my laughter. “Now that’s a sight to see.”