Gypsy King (Tin Gypsy, #1)(69)

“What can I say. I loathe folding laundry.”

He grinned. “Figured that out two baskets ago, baby.”

I walked deeper into the room, plopping down on the arm of the couch as Dash folded another towel. “What are you really doing here? Because it’s not folding my laundry.”

“Hiding.”

“Hiding,” I repeated.

“Yeah.” He picked up the basket, now full of folded clothes, and set it aside. “Can I hide here?”

The vulnerability in his voice twisted my heart. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” Dash came to stand in front of me, his feet bare on the rug, and lifted his hands to frame my face. “Kiss.”

“You’re demanding today.”

He dropped his lips to mine. “You like it.”

As his tongue swept across my lips, the swell of heat in my core proved his point. I opened my mouth, letting him sweep inside. His taste consumed my mouth and my hands reached for his hips, pulling him closer.

He stepped between my legs, using his own to push them wide. Then he leaned down and forced me back on my perch, keeping his grip firm on my face.

Our mouths twisted and turned, battling one another for more. The temperature in the room spiked and I ached to feel my bare skin against his. The weeks since I’d had him inside me had been far too long, and the need to feel him was overwhelming. Panting and searching for more to stoke the fire burning, I gripped at his T-shirt and pulled him on top of me.

He ripped his lips away, grabbing me by the hips and spinning us both, so he was sitting on the couch and I straddled his lap. Dash’s erection, thick and hard beneath his zipper rubbed against my core.

“Off.” I yanked at his shirt, dragging it up his body as he worked the button and zipper free on my jeans.

“Are you wet for me?” He slipped his hand into my panties, finding my slippery folds with his middle finger. A grin spread across his face as I gasped at that finger curving inside.

“Yes,” I moaned, closing my eyes and letting my head lull sideways. “I missed you.”

I’d missed more than just his body, but I kept that thought to myself.

Dash’s lips sucked at my neck, kissing and licking as his free hand tugged at the collar of my tee. “Missed you too.”

He was most definitely talking about sex. But in the corners of my heart, I pretended it was something more.

His hand between my legs tormented, teased, until I was nearly breathless. But I didn’t want to come around his fingers. Digging for the strength in my wobbling knees to stand, I climbed off his lap, shoving my jeans and panties to the floor.

I whipped off my shirt and by the time I looked back at Dash, he’d pulled his own jeans down his hips and his shirt was off. Those ripped abs were bunched and his hand was fisted around his pulsing shaft, a condom in place.

I straddled his waist, taking his face in my hands. “Damn, you’re sexy.”

“I know.” He grinned as I kissed the corner of his mouth.

That arrogance should have been a turnoff, but the man had a mirror. And he knew what he did to me.

Dash positioned himself beneath my entrance, and as I slowly sank down, I sheathed him. The stretch, that incredible fill, sent a shudder down my spine and I nearly orgasmed right then.

“Fuck,” Dash groaned, the cords of his neck straining as I lifted up before sinking down again. “You’ve ruined me.”

The laundry he’d folded tumbled from the couch as we got lost in the frenzy. I rode him hard until my muscles weakened and my pace slowed. Dash took over, smashing our chests together as he repositioned us, me on my back with my legs spread wide. Him between me, powerful and in control.

The sheer masculinity of his arms and legs amazed me as he braced himself, thrusting his hips over and over until I came undone. My orgasm washed over me in hard, long waves until I was limp.

Dash came not long after, pouring himself free as the ridges of his chest and abs flexed. I had definitely gone too long without that view. It was mine. All mine. For just a little bit longer.

“It just gets better,” he panted into my hair as he collapsed on top of me. Then he dropped a swift kiss on my neck and stood, sliding out. “Be right back.”

While he went to deal with the condom, I worked to catch my breath. There was a charged feeling under my skin. An electricity. I’d been so tired when I’d come home, but now I wanted more.

Dash came back into the living room, holding out a hand to help me from the couch. The moment I was on my feet, I reached between us for his cock. Maybe he’d be up for round two.

“Not yet.” He grinned, taking my hand away. “I’m out of condoms.”

“Oh.” My spirits fell. “I don’t have any.”

“I’ll run out and get some later. Like to have my own anyway.”

He liked to have his own? I blinked, unsure I’d heard him correctly. “What exactly does that mean? Because it kind of sounded like you need condoms to use with someone other than me.”

And that was absolutely not going to work.

“What? No, babe.” He took my face in his hands and kissed my forehead. “You’re it. But I watched one of my brothers in the club get a girl pregnant because she’d fucked with the condom. I’ve always made it a habit to provide them myself.”