Written with Regret (The Regret Duet #1)(70)

So, yeah. Bad, horrible, stupid choices aside, after reading those texts and finding out that she was just as enamored as I was, I wanted to live in the seconds too.

And when she opened that door in that sexy little white tank top, her nipples showing through the thin fabric, and those shorts that revealed her toned legs just long enough to encircle my hips as I took her fast and hard, I wanted those seconds to be spent inside her.

“Please, Caven,” she whispered.

That was all I needed to hear.

“Bedroom?” I murmured, sucking my way up her neck.

“Upstairs,” she panted.

“Fuck, that’s far away.”

She hummed, rolling her hips, the friction against my cock making it throb.

“Point made,” I groaned, starting toward the stairs.

With our mouths fused together, we kissed, bumping into walls and nearly falling as she tried to unbutton my shirt. By the time we reached the top of the stairs, I’d shimmied her shorts off, leaving her in nothing but that thin tank top and an equally thin pair of pink panties. It shouldn’t have been as mouthwateringly sexy as it was.

But on her…

We hadn’t made it to her room before I hooked a finger in her panties, tugging them to the side and teasing through her wetness.

She gasped, folding her arms around my neck for balance as we stood in her hallway, only yards from her bed but physically unable to make it any farther.

I dipped the tip of my finger into her opening, gliding it up until I found her clit. “Is this what I do to you, babe? Is this what you were talking about in those texts?”

She rested her forehead on my pec as her body sagged. “Yes.”

I circled her clit. “And you want more, don’t you? You remember how good it felt—”

Her head suddenly snapped up. “I don’t want to remember anything, Caven. This is now. Me and you. I just want you to touch me.” She pressed up onto her toes, ghosting her lips across mine. “And kiss me and—”

I fulfilled that wish, rough and needy. She was right. This wasn’t about the past—a road neither one of us needed to get lost down.

Keeping our mouths connected, I backed her through the open door.

Her room was dark, the light in the hall dimly illuminating her tropical escape, complete with decorative mosquito netting draped across the top of her bed. But that was the only thing I noticed about her room in our frenzied path to the mattress.

As she sank onto the bed, I finished her efforts on my shirt and threw it off to the side then toed off my shoes and socks and stepping out of my pants, but not before retrieving a condom from my pocket.

While I rolled it down my shaft, she trapped her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes, wide and filled with surprise, made the slow trip over my hard cock before landing on my scars. The bullet through my stomach had shredded my left lower ab. Women always stared at that one. I couldn’t blame them; it was a mangled wreck. Hell, Hadley had stared at that one the first time too. But it was the one at my side that was nothing more than a circle the size of nickel that had captured her attention.

She could do a full inspection later for all I cared, but I was done waiting. I stripped her panties down her legs, throwing them off to the side. Then I took her mouth again, swallowing her moan as I climbed on top. Her legs opened, allowing my hips to fall through, her hot, wet core pressing against my straining cock.

“Caven,” she breathed, clinging to my neck as I rocked against her.

“I fucking love the way you say my name.”

Kissing her way up to my neck, she raked her teeth over my earlobe and repeated, “Caven. Caven. Caven.”

Fuck me, I should have brought more than two condoms.

Inching back, I tugged the front of her tank down, a perfect, round breast popping free.

As I swirled my tongue around her peaked nipple, her back arched off the bed, which pressed her deeper into my mouth.

“Yes, oh, God, Caven, please.”

I traced a hand down her side and pushed up on her shirt. “Take this off.”

“No,” she panted, spreading her legs wide.

It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.

Gripping the base of my cock, I guided myself inside her tight heat.

And when I say tight, I mean, fucking tight.

“Jesus, Hadley,” I groaned, deliberately stretching her inch by inch.

Peering down at her, I seated myself at the hilt. Her eyes were closed, her mouth gaping open, a full spectrum of ecstasy coloring her face.

“You are so fucking beautiful.”

Her lids fluttered open, and I’d wished like hell I’d turned the lights on because there was a soft emotion on her face that I couldn’t quite make out in the dimly lit room.

But I felt it. Somehow, someway. I had no idea what it was, but my chest got tight and the muscles in my arms and back tensed. “Hadl—”

“Shhh,” she purred, lifting her head to kiss me. “Don’t ruin this with words.” Her body wrapped around me, her arms around my neck, her legs around my hips, her core squeezing me in a long, needy pull.

I kissed the side of her throat as I began a slow ride that had lost its frenzy but consumed me with something else altogether. I worked her with rhythmic thrusts, her body rolling with mine like waves lost at sea.

She kissed me like she was drowning in us—her lips panic-stricken, touching and tasting anywhere she could reach as if she couldn’t get enough. But it wasn’t about sex. She wasn’t lost in desire, chasing down an elusive release.