The Virgin Gift(32)

When I pulled out, she let go of her own hands, grabbed my hips, and cried out against me, “Oh God, I’m coming too. I’m coming so hard.”

Like that, with her face against my thighs, her hands clutching me, her body quaking, my sweet, dirty girl fell apart at my feet.

A few seconds later, I turned off the butterfly, tossing the remote on the couch. I kicked off my shoes; shed my jeans, briefs, and shirt; and scooped her up, carrying her to her bedroom. She moaned happily in my arms the whole time, enjoying the aftereffects of her own climax.

I laid her out on the bed, her silky hair spilling across the pillow, her body soft and pliant.

She was incredible, and my heart thumped harder as I drank her in. She was so fearless, so eager. And she gave herself so freely. I’d never experienced anyone like her before. And I wanted to experience all of her, again and again. That hammering in my heart grew louder, and I wanted to tell it to shut up, but I wanted to kiss her more.

So I did.

I dropped a kiss to her forehead, inhaling her scent.

She smiled.

Then I kissed her nose, and she murmured.

Then I placed one on her lips.

She sighed softly.

“You deserve another orgasm,” I said, my head swirling with longing for her, for more of her. “You know that? That was so damn good. You deserve to come again.”

I didn’t give her a chance to resist. I moved down her body, slid off the vibrator, and kissed her delicious wetness.

“You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” I whispered as I wrapped my hands around her ass, cupping her cheeks, bringing her closer to my mouth.

“I am?” she asked, but there were no nerves in her voice. Only a lovely, warm sound, letting me know she liked the praise, wanted to hear more of it.

“You are perfection, and I need another taste of you. I need to have you all over my lips,” I said, and for a second, it occurred to me that I was begging her. And it hit me too—I didn’t care. She was worth pleading to. I’d get down on my knees for another taste of her.

Only I didn’t have to. I didn’t have to beg, because she gave. She gave all of herself. And that made me the luckiest man in the world.

“Have me, Adam. Please have me,” she whispered.

And damn, that sent my heart into overdrive. That organ slammed against my rib cage, even as I caressed her slickness with my lips, devouring the evidence of her first climax.

I tried to ignore the beating inside my chest as she rocked against me, letting go, giving in once more.

No one could give in quite like this woman.

No one seemed to know her own desires like Nina.

No one had ever been this free in bed, and I loved every single second of being with her.

In and out of the sheets.

That thought kept appearing insistently, inconveniently. I tried to dismiss it again and again, losing myself in the paradise between her legs as I kissed her till she came again, wildly, loudly, bucking against my face.

Once she was done, I climbed over her, at full mast again. I cupped her warm, flushed cheek, staring deep into her eyes, feeling myself fall once more.

Time to focus on the list. On the reason she created it in the first place.

I had to do what I’d planned to do.

But before I could speak, she asked a question I wasn’t expecting.





18





Adam





She propped herself on her elbow, her head in her hand. “Why do you call me different things? At different times?”

Her gaze locked with mine as she leveled me with a question I didn’t want to answer.

I knew the answer. I was vaguely aware in the moment why I did it. But I also knew it wasn’t purposeful. Sometimes the sweet names slipped out.

“What do you mean?” I asked, hoping to buy some time to figure out what the hell to say.

“Well, sometimes I’m ‘dirty girl.’ Every now and then, I’m ‘sweet girl.’ And then there are these times when you call me ‘baby.’”

It didn’t take long for her to home in on me. The woman had laser vision. Except she didn’t have to know what I meant by all of those terms of endearment.

“Is that so?” I asked, going for a flirty tone that didn’t fit the moment. But I had to try.

She nodded and smiled, then she did something we hadn’t had much occasion to do. She touched me. She ran her fingers down my chest, playing with my chest hair. “When you’re all dirty, dominant alpha, you call me ‘dirty girl.’ You say that most of the time,” she said with a knowing grin as her fingers trailed farther south, feeling so damn good. “Twice you’ve called me ‘sweet girl,’ and it’s when we’re doing something really dirty. Like when you came on my face, and when you put your finger in my ass. And I think you do it to remind me that you like it really dirty too. That you don’t see me any differently when we’re doing that.”

Damn. She was undressing me, and I was already naked.

I said nothing, just waited. I schooled my expression, even as her nails brushed across my abs, her touch electric.

“And then sometimes you call me ‘baby,’” she continued. “I haven’t quite figured that out, but I think you say it in the heat of the moment.”

There. She’d done it. She’d seen through me. All the way.