The Fixed Trilogy: Fixed on You(28)

I couldn’t remember ever having felt so completely filled, not only because of his girth, but because of the way his eyes pierced mine as he stretched and moved within me. He circled his hips nudging his tip forward. “So good.”

He pulled out slowly, almost the entire length of his cock, and I bemoaned the emptiness left behind. Then he flexed his hips and rammed inside me with a fierce stroke.

I cried out and he echoed with a low grumble of desire. He pressed his chest against me and captured my mouth, kissing me roughly with my taste on his lips as he pounded into me.

Even though he’d already taken care of me—twice—I was desperate for him to bring me to another orgasm. I rocked against him, meeting each grinding pulse of his hips, moaning and panting as I took each one of his blunt drives.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Hudson grunted as he continued his assault.

I obeyed, having forgotten his earlier wish for me to do so. My heels hit against the back of his thighs, digging into him as he moved in and out of me, adding an additional level of eroticism. Lifting my legs also opened me further, and his cock bore deeper into me, hitting a spot within that ignited at each stroke.

My orgasm built from there, my body tightening and clenching and contracting around Hudson’s pummeling thrusts. “I’m going to come,” I groaned, already trembling.

“Yes,” Hudson cried. “Yes, come, Alayna.” My climax crashed through me, brought to a head by his coaxing. Seconds later, his own body tensed and jerked, releasing into me long and hard, my name spilling from his lips.

He fell onto my quaking body, our chests rising and falling in tandem. His head buried into the crook of my neck as I pulled my fingers through his sweat-dampened hair.

“I knew sex with you would be like that,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “Powerful and intense and f*cking incredible. I knew it.”

I swallowed, forcing down any emotion that threatened to show itself except for satiation. “Me, too.”





Chapter Nine


I must have dozed. When I woke, Hudson stood over me, pulling a comforter over my naked body.

“Sleep, precious,” he said as I struggled to sit up. He’d put on a pair of sweats, but he still smelled like sex. My belly tightened in response to his scent. Would my lust for Hudson never be satisfied?

He brushed a kiss on my forehead. “I need to order dinner. Chinese okay?”

I stretched. “Sounds delicious.”

“I’ll call it in.”

I watched his gorgeous backside as he left the bedroom, luxuriating in what was left of my post-sex high. God, I felt good. I hadn’t been f*cked like that in…well, ever. The care and attention Hudson delivered as a lover left little to be desired. Of course, that made me want him. Again.

I tugged the comforter tighter around me, an uneasy feeling creeping over me. I tried to dissect its source. The fact was I felt comfortable—too comfortable. My number one rule in avoiding unhealthy attachments was to avoid attachments in general. Getting comfortable was too close to attached. And there was no way I could get attached to Hudson.

A tenuous ball of anxiety began forming in my belly. I could stay through dinner, I decided, but I needed to be dressed and sitting at a table. And then, after the night was over, Hudson and I had to keep our relationship to business only.

Throwing off the blanket, I began to gather my clothes. I found my panties and slipped them on then reached for my bra.

“You’re getting dressed?”

I jumped. Hudson was standing in the doorway, watching me, carrying his shirt and tie that he’d—um, we’d—discarded earlier in the main room. Suddenly feeling awkward at my near nakedness, I crossed my arms over my chest.

He tossed his clothes on top of the laundry basket then crossed his own arms. Hudson didn’t appear to be hiding as I was, but looked like he meant to scold me. He raised a brow. “Are you in a hurry to leave?”

I shivered. His gaze and my lack of clothing made it hard to remember why I’d wanted to go. I looked away. He probably wanted me gone soon anyway, having already gotten what he wanted. We didn’t have to pretend otherwise. “Guys don’t usually want me to hang around after sex.”

“That statement brings up so many issues for discussion that I don’t know where to begin.” He stepped toward me. “What is wrong with men to not…?” He shook his head. “Alayna, please don’t group me with other guys you know. I’d like to think I’m not like most of them. And I don’t want to know or think about you having sex with other men. I don’t share.”

Not meeting his eye, I picked up my shorts from the floor, ignoring the thrill that ran up my spine from his suggestion of possessiveness. “That sounds awfully relationshippy to me. I thought you didn’t do relationships.”

“I don’t do romantic relationships. Sexual relationships are another thing entirely. Why are you getting ready to leave?”

Avoiding his question, I dove for my shirt at the foot of the bed, but Hudson beat me to it. “Stop,” he said, holding my shirt out of my reach. He put his finger under my chin so that I would look him in the eye. His brow creased in confusion and his tone held sincerity. “I want you to stay. And, if you are so inclined, I’d prefer that you not be dressed.”

I wanted to melt under his invitation, but I refused to be affected. “You’re dressed,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest again, sounding like a pouty child. The knot of anxiety was tightening, and I was grabbing at anything I could to try to stand my ground.