Tempted & Taken (Men of Haven #4)(68)

The fat head of him slipped past her tight ring and she whimpered, braced for the stretch and the burn.

“Easy.” He smoothed one strong hand along the base of her spine, the gentle touch a stark contrast to the viselike grip of his other on her hip. “Relax and let me give you what you want.”

She let out a shaky breath and his shaft sunk deeper. Filling her. Claiming her in a way she didn’t dare acknowledge.

“Perfect.” A dark encouragement. Praise and temptation from her very own blond devil. “Slow and easy until you take it all.”

His words moved through her, the subtle sub-context stirring possibilities she’d fought hard to ignore. To keep ideas of the future locked up tight until things were more stable between them.

But he was right. She trusted him. Physically. Emotionally. No matter what happened between them, he’d act with integrity. Honesty and openness.

And she wouldn’t fight him.

Not in work. Not in sex. Not with her heart.

He slid to the hilt and her body sung with completeness. As if the physical connection served to confirm what her mind and emotions already accepted.

Holding himself in place, he squeezed her hips and ground out, “Talk to me.”

“No talking.” She moved what little she could within his unrelenting hold, reached back with one hand and dug her nails into his hips. “Please give me what I need.”

He moved. Slow and shallow at first, but escalating quickly. Reading her response and building on it. Rolling his hips and driving inside her as though his only thought was to her pleasure. Her needs.

Pushing up on her forearms, she met each thrust, letting the foreign, but delicious contact sweep her deeper. Beyond thought. Beyond constraints or worry for the future. Beyond anything but right here and now and the impending explosion between them.

She slipped one hand between her legs, the light touch of her fingers against her throbbing clit almost painful. “I’m done waiting.”

“Fuck. So goddamn greedy.” With nothing short of a snarl, he fisted her hair, yanked her upright and collared her throat with one hand. With his other hand, he knocked her questing fingers out of his way, not once breaking the compelling rhythm of his cock inside her. “Oh, no you don’t. This pussy’s mine.” He slicked his demanding fingers through her drenched folds and circled her clit. “When you come, it’ll be because I’m the one that took you there.”

He plunged two fingers deep and powered harder inside her ass, each stab commanding her to relent. To surrender.

And her body obeyed.

Her sex pulsing and clenching around his fingers. Muscles quivering with the onslaught of endorphins. Mind and soul drifting on a black velvet sky broken only by garnet, emerald and sapphire shards.

“Yes. Love it when you come. That’s mine.” He pumped once. Twice. Then plowed to the root and held himself deep, his cock jerking inside her. He buried his face at the crook of her neck and ground his hips against hers, his breath coming fast and hot against her skin. Despite the tension in his arms, he leisurely screwed his fingers in and out of her sex, drawing out her release with each precise stroke. “Mine because you trust me. Because what we’ve got works.”

He was right. He’d proven it just as he said he would. But he was also a dominant man used to getting his way whenever he set his mind to it, and her past had already been impacted by too many men like him. If she took this step it would be because she chose it. On her time and no one else’s.

Easing her so her torso was once more braced on the bed and him blanketing her, he gently swept her hair off her back and nuzzled the sweet spot at the base of her neck. Only when she’d fully relaxed and let out a soft sigh did he speak again. “You okay?”

Fabulous. Empowered and confident, and yet sheltered and protected, too. The combination was heady. Disconcerting and pleasant all at once. “I’ll be sore, but it’ll be the good kind,” she murmured.

“There’s a good kind?”

She shifted and peeked back at him. “I’ll feel it, and I’ll smile because I’ll remember.”

He grinned and nipped her shoulder, clearly pleased with her explanation. “How about if I run you a bath and you can soak for a bit before we call it a night?”

“I still have work to do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Knox—”

Still buried inside her, he rolled his hips and claimed her mouth to silence her. “You know this is right,” he said after a long kiss. “Say yes, and I’ll run you bath.”

“Run me a bath and give me a week.”

The calculating glint in his eyes reignited, and he skimmed his lips along her jawline. “Three days.”

Stubborn, genius, beautiful man. “One week.”

“Five.”

Five days was reasonable. Especially considering she already knew her answer.

“And I want to ditch the condoms,” he added before she could agree. “Whatever you need to be comfortable going there, I’m in. Zeke can test us, or we’ll find someone else to do it.”

Flutters rippled through her belly and the space behind her sternum swelled as though her heart had doubled in size. Just the thought of feeling him inside her like that—of feeling his slick release mingled with her own—nearly made her cave. “A bath now and five days for my answer, but we lose the condoms faster if we can.”