Hold On (The 'Burg #6)(87)

My back met bed as his mouth opened over mine and his tongue slid inside.

From then, it didn’t go any less slow. Merry guiding, me following his lead, we touched. We kissed. We tasted. We trailed. I got his shirt off him. He separated long enough to rid himself of his shoes and socks. He gently dragged my panties down my legs. I went after his belt and held his gaze as he lay on his back in the bed and bucked his hips while I pulled his trousers and boxers down his.

Naked, it didn’t go any faster. It wasn’t about experience. Feeding the need. Taking what you wanted. Getting into your head and getting lost in the feeling.

It also wasn’t exploring.

It was memorizing.

Basking.

Worshiping.

I was so into him, it was unreal. Listening. Watching. What a touch would do. The trail of my tongue. The nip of my teeth. The stroke of my hand.

I was dragging my lips along the crisp hair over the hard muscle of his stomach with a destination in mind when he pulled me up and showed me he was where I was.

That being, he was so into me, it was unreal. Listening. Watching. What his touch did to me. The trail of his tongue. The nip of his teeth. The stroke of his hand.

It might have been fifteen minutes; it might have been three hours. All I knew was by the time he was finally ready to give me what I needed, I was more ready to get it than I’d ever been in my life.

And even that he gave me in a way only Merry could give me.

He righted us in his bed, my head to his pillows, strangely proper, powerfully proper, like this time, our first time as an us, taking a shot at what we could be, he was going to do it right.

He reached toward the nightstand, his eyes never leaving mine.

I curled my legs around his thighs, careful of the shoes I was still wearing, not wanting to spike him with a heel, my arms gliding around his back, my gaze locked to his.

He kept it that way as his lips fell to mine and he murmured, “Take care of this for me, baby.”

He found my hand and pressed the condom in it.

I didn’t f*ck around unwrapping it.

But when I brought it between us and found his cock, I took my time rolling it on.

I watched the hunger burn in his eyes and my erratic breathing became panting, feeling his thick cock pulse under my fingers.

When I got the condom to the base, he nipped my lower lip with his teeth.

Shit yeah.

I tightened my hold on him with my limbs, through all this our eyes connected. They stayed connected as I slid him through my wet, touching my tongue to my lower lip as his teeth sunk into his.

God, f*cking, f*cking Merry.

Just that…so hot.

I led him to my opening and he immediately pushed in half an inch.

I let out a soft gust of breath, sliding my hand away, across his hip, around, up his spine, into his hair.

When I had a hold, slowly—God, so unbelievably, beautifully slowly—Garrett Merrick filled me.

Connected with me.

Became a part of me.

I stared at him and felt it. Felt him inside. Felt his heat. His weight. Felt his arms wrapped around me. Felt my body wrapped around him.

I felt all that and I felt something else.

My eyes were not burning. No dryness. No pain.

They were wet.

Merry stared into them, the heat in his not waning but a new warmth joining it, before his head slanted and he kissed me.

Then he made love to me.

I was far from a virgin.

But that was my first time.

My first time ever.

My first time where a man thought enough about me to make love to me.

It was slow. It was tender. It included wet kisses. Eye contact. Silent communication. I touched him, clutched him, held him to me.

He drove deep and rhythmic, his arms wrapped around me.

It was there but it built, the slow, constant pounding of him against my clit, his cock inside me. When it started to come over me, I knew it was going to happen with just his cock and it was going to be bigger than anything.

“Merry,” I whispered, my hand moving from his ass up to his hair, my fingers clenching.

He stroked in and, suddenly, it bolted through me.

“Merry,” I gasped, his mouth hitting mine, his tongue touching the tip of mine, and I moaned down his throat.

The slow left him and he went faster, harder, driving into me, pounding deep, bodies connected, mouths connected, his tongue now as greedy as his cock thrusting inside, my orgasm swelling and hovering.

I kept hold on his hair, my legs curling tight around his thighs, my arm slanting across his back, fingers pressing in the muscle of his lat, anchoring him to me as whimpers escaped, filling his mouth, my body under his trembling.

When finally he broke the kiss but not the connection of our lips, his grunts mingling with my whimpers.

He planted his cock deep and groaned, “Cher,” before his body bucked and his growl of release filled my mouth.

After he gave me that, he tore his mouth from mine and thrust once more, hard and deep, while he moved to press his forehead into the side of my neck.

I felt it leave him as it left me and I began stroking him, running the tips of my fingers through his hair, tracing the defined lines of the muscles of his back, the rest of me unmoving.

Merry’s arms gave me a powerful squeeze before he shifted to kiss my neck and then lifted his head.

He looked into my eyes.

I looked into his.