The Crush (35)

She was perfect. And tonight, she was mine.

It was that thought that had me taking myself in hand, watching with dark, roaring satisfaction as her eyes lit with mindless expectation.

I wanted this to ruin her for anyone else. It was a jealous thought, something proprietary and greedy that I’d never felt before. But I wanted to be ruined in the exact same way, more than I already was.

Adaline arched her spine in a helpless movement, sighing when I slow, slow, slowly pushed inside her.

It was relief stamped over the finely carved features on her face, a pinch of pain when I couldn’t go any further. Her stomach quivered, and I held my spread fingers over the soft skin there. My eyes closed as I let the sensation flood me, thundering through my blood while I held so very still.

“So good,” I whispered. From the tips of my fingers to the heat rushing along my scalp, I could feel her. This is what I’d been looking for and never would have found anywhere else.

“Come here,” she begged.

I did. I stretched my full weight over her body, a groan tearing from my chest at how she fit underneath me.

I would never be able to resist her. Not anymore. And I should’ve felt a tug of caution when I realized it. But nothing was breaking through the mind-blistering pleasure of her body around mine when I pulled back, thrust back in one sure, hard stroke.

Adaline’s head tossed back, a gasp breaking free.

My arms curled around her shoulders, locking her in place, and I took her mouth in a furious kiss. It was messy, with teeth and tongues and a satisfied grunt that I couldn’t keep in.

Soft and sweet would come later, but it wasn’t now. With our bodies locked, her thighs tight against my side, I took her the way I wanted. The way my muscles screamed at me to take her.

Again and again and again, harder with each drive of my hips, until sweat slipped down my back.

She mewled with each snap of my body against hers, and when she tossed her head back again, teeth gritted, I knew she was close.

“You are perfect,” I said against her lips. “Show me again, pretty girl.”

Adaline rolled her hips up every time I thrust back into her, and with a throaty scream, she shattered again, a violent grip of pleasure that had white heat barreling down my spine.

I about blacked out from the force of it, and I wasn’t even sure what I shouted into her skin when I came.

I slowed my movements as we regained our breath, slumping over her body with a satisfied groan. She kissed my shoulder, humming as she did.

Words crowded my throat, things that were far too soon to say.

Like I wanted to do this forever, that she was the thing I’d been missing all these years, and I was an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

For thinking anything could surpass what it was like to be with her.

But I swallowed them down, fully aware of all the things she was afraid of. Fully aware of why she wasn’t ready.

Adaline’s mouth found mine, and I poured all those unsaid things into the kiss.

She let out a surprised moan at the fierce way I took her mouth. My hands tangled in her hair, and I stayed locked inside her, our bodies messy and sweaty while we rolled to our sides.

Tonight wasn’t the time to say them. I had one night to indulge my selfish pleasures, see how much I could wring out of this handful of hours before I had to return to the reality that wasn’t set up for any sort of relationship between us.

Outside of that room, an entire world existed, and we ignored it. There was no way her family didn’t know what we were doing, but behind the locked door and underneath the tangled mess of sheets, we focused on each other.

Adaline had a slight obsession with studying the lines and grooves in my chest and stomach, settling on my lap while I tucked my hands behind my head and watched her through heavy-lidded eyes.

All the hours I spent in the gym were worth it, with the trail of her fingertips over my stomach and the happy sighs slipping out of her kiss-bruised lips.

That’s how she stayed the next time, with slow rocking motions of her hips and my hands locked tight around her waist.

We fell asleep for a while after that round, Adaline’s back tucked against me and my arm anchored over her middle. My face was buried in her hair, and even though it was such a tangled mess I could probably choke on it with very little effort, I couldn’t bring myself to move it out of the way.

The hours passed too quickly, and I took her one more time before the sun rose even though my body ached, and she begged for a sweet, slow round with small, tiny movements and my hand between us to bring her to a peak quickly. My lips were bruised from kissing, as were hers.

Sprawled over my chest in a deep sleep, Adaline was sated and spent, blissed out on sex and the contentment of indulging in something that had lingered in the background for years. Maybe it was relief that had her sleeping so soundly.

This night was what she wanted, was all that she could handle. What we’d done had uncorked some of that tension she’d been carrying around for so many years, finally allowing it to breathe.

I, on the other hand, was completely fucked.

Certain moments changed the rest of your life—what you wanted from it and what you were willing to accept.

This was one of them.

When I woke after a few meager hours of sleep, I brushed her hair off her face and laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. I studied the long sweep of her dark lashes and the freckles over the bridge of her nose that I’d only noticed when I got this close.