Five Ways to Fall (Ten Tiny Breaths, #4)(81)

“You love my body, don’t you?” I murmur.

Heated eyes lift to meet mine, boring into me with a new intensity I hadn’t expected, and I can’t stop myself from leaning in, more than eager to feel her skin. Once again, her hands push back to stop me.

“It’s been a while for me,” she admits, her gaze dropping to my belt buckle, her long lashes fluttering. Is she nervous?

“Since your ex?” I’m pretty sure the answer to that is yes, given what I overheard the other week when I surprised a sick Reese at her home.

A single nod answers me. Reaching down, her fingers make quick work of my belt and zipper, unfastening them until the dress pants I wore to work today are hanging open, showing off the sizeable bulge I have for her under my briefs. I catch her wrists and gently pull them back, allowing me space to step in until the cool metal of her piercing grazes my chest. I bend down to kiss the corner of her mouth. “You just tell me how fast or slow to go then, okay?”

In response, she pulls out of my loose grip. One arm reaches around to dig into my back pocket, seizing my wallet. She retrieves the condom waiting inside and tosses my wallet to the side as if it were trash.

“Well, you seem to remember the basics, at least,” I mutter wryly.

“Oh, I remember more than the basics.” Her palms slide slowly, all the way up the front of my body as if memorizing it surface, until her hands coil around my neck, her head dipping back to regard me with a smirk. “I just hope you’re decent or all this buildup will be rather disappointing.”

My head falls back as a loud bark of laughter escapes me. So do I. I’ve never had a problem, but with this girl . . . A sudden case of nerves hits me. “As long as I can get through those cobwebs, I should be fine.”

Thanks to the lamp I turned on when we came in, I catch her cheeks changing color. Maybe that’s why she decides to slap the condom into my hand and yank my pants and briefs down, barely making the effort to get the elastic around my dick.

My hips pull back in reaction. “Hey! Why are you intent on breaking it!” Unwilling to let her take control here—she’s either angry or nervous; either way, my vital body part will not become a casualty—I pin her hands up above her head with one arm before kicking off my pants and briefs.

She opens her mouth to say something but I cut her off with a deep kiss, slipping my tongue in to take complete control of her mouth, while my free hand runs up her inner thigh.

She may be nervous, but she’s soft and wet and so damn ready.

“Screw the foreplay,” she growls against my mouth, a leg lifting and hooking around my thighs to pull me against her. Her hands struggle against my grip but I don’t relent.

And I’m torn between laughing and groaning. Fuck. Normally, I try to keep my pants on as long as possible because once they’re off, I have a five-minute threshold until I need to be in something. And I need to be in her. Right now. She’s so close. Just a quick maneuver and I’m golden. And then she has to go and say that!

Except, the small mewling sounds she’s trying to stifle as my thumb and fingers work against her is enough to hold me back. Breaking free of her mouth to shift my attention to her neck, I take my time inhaling that strawberries-and-cream scent as my tongue trails the curves of her collarbone. Her body’s still squirming against my hand, her breathing growing more ragged and uneven. I keep those hands pinned above her head until I lose my reach as my knees hits the floor.

“I need more time for—” She gasps when my tongue catches the first sweet taste of her, my arms hooked tight under her thighs, my shoulders holding her against the wall.

She cries out, grabbing fistfuls of my hair until my scalp hurts. I don’t give a shit; this reaction is worth the pain. It’s times like these when I’m happy I can bench press almost double my weight, because I have no problem keeping her writhing body still.

My name tumbles from her mouth in a moan as a thump sounds—her head falling back against the wall. “Okay, fine.” She resigns herself to the fact that I’m not letting her go. Her fingers slowly loosen their grip of my hair, until they’re rubbing my head where it’s sore, her thighs falling apart as they relax slightly. And when she comes?

Jesus.

I kind of wish the music weren’t so loud because if the guys had heard that, I’d be getting pats on my back for weeks.

The last quiver through her body is barely done when I’m on my feet. She falls into me as I lift and carry her to my bed. Tossing her gently, I reach into my nightstand for another condom—I’m not about to go looking for the one lying on the floor.

Her eyes are at half-mast as she peers up at me, a perfect balance to her flustered cheeks and the puffy lips I must have given her from kissing her so hard. Downright sexy.

“You’re not going to fall asleep on me, are you?” I tease, stretching over her. If she does, I’ll die.

A sly smile curls her mouth as one hand cups the back of my neck while the other reaches down to grab me and guide me into her. “If I do, then you’re doing something terribly wrong,” she whispers, smiling wryly, adding, “Just don’t hurt me.”

“Do you think I’m an amateur?” Hurt her? I’ll be lucky to get all the way in her before I lose it. And then I will look like an amateur. She feels too damn good and tight. Better than I remember it feeling in a long time. And different. I’m sure it’s just the anticipation, dragged out over months and multiple failed attempts.