Rush (Breathless #1)(26)

“Can I touch you?” she whispered. She needed to touch him. She could contain herself no longer. It was an overwhelming urge she couldn’t control.

He didn’t respond, but he slid his hands from hers, freeing her, and she took that silent gesture as assent.

Tentatively she slid her hands over his shoulders, gaining more courage when he didn’t object. She allowed her hands to roam, luxuriating in the postcoital glow. They slid down his back as far as she could reach and then up again, stroking and offering him the same caresses he’d given to her.

He made a sound of satisfaction that made her entire body clench. He groaned in reaction when she squeezed around his cock, and then he pressed a kiss to her neck just below her ear.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. “And mine.”

Pleasure consumed her, at his calling her beautiful but most especially that he’d staked his claim. For however long their arrangement would last, she was his. Truly his. In a way most women don’t belong to a man.

There wasn’t a part of her body that didn’t feel the stamp of his possession. She was tired, sore and completely satisfied. Moving wasn’t an option, and so she waited, content to lie there, him surrounding her and still deeply embedded in her.

Chapter nine

Gabe lay next to Mia listening to the soft sounds of her breathing. She was warm and soft against him and he was gripped by an odd…contentment. Her head was pillowed on his arm, which was growing numb, but he refused to move because he liked the feel of her nestled against his side.

He was not a cuddler. Not since he was married had he ever devoted any time to the more intimate parts of lovemaking. Not that he hadn’t let women sleep over, but there was always a distinct separation, almost an invisible barrier between him and the other women.

Mia hadn’t given him much choice in the matter. As soon as he’d withdrawn from her body and cleaned them both, she’d snuggled into his side and fallen asleep. And he hadn’t done anything to rectify the matter.

Instead, he lay here pondering the volatility of their coming together.

Guilt plagued him. He’d promised her that he’d be patient and ease her into the physical aspects of their relationship. He should have gone slower, been more gentle. He should have made certain that he had more control.

But the simple truth was that from the moment she walked into his apartment, he’d been instantly seized with the primal urge to have her. Nothing about their sexual encounter had been slow or gentle. He’d f**ked her hard and with an urgency that he couldn’t even explain.

He glanced at her closed eyes, at her tousled hair and the swell of her breast pressed solidly into his side. He’d imagined that after sating his initial lust for her, he would gain control of this seeming obsession, that he’d be able to settle and treat this as he did all his other partnerships with women. If anything, this first encounter had only sharpened the edge of his arousal. He was hungry for more. In no way had f**king her diminished his burning need for her. He wanted her again. Goddamn it but he wanted her now.

Forgotten were all his promises to ease her into his lifestyle, to take it slow with his demands. He wanted to tie her up and f**k her until they both passed out. He wanted to do about a million things with her, none of which included going slow or easing her into anything. The only thing he wanted to ease was himself. Inside her. Only it wouldn’t be easy. He wanted to f**k her hard, deep and long, until she had absolutely no doubt that she was his.

She stirred beside him, made a sleepy noise as her arm slid over his chest. His hand came down over her arm in a caress, the simple need to touch her overwhelming him. Her eyelids fluttered open and she stared up at him, her eyes hazy.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Not long. Maybe an hour.”

She started to push herself upward, uncertainty flashing in her eyes.

“Sorry. I mean I didn’t intend to fall asleep. I should probably be going.”

He scowled and pulled her roughly back down and let his hand travel up her body, over her curves and to her breast. The hell she was going anywhere. What hadn’t she understood about the fact that she was his? And being his didn’t include crawling out of his bed the minute the orgasm was over.

“Call your roommate and have her prepare you an overnight bag. I’ll send a car for it and you can ride in to work with me tomorrow.”

Mia’s expression became troubled. “How is that going to look if we show up to work together?”

His frown deepened. “It won’t look like anything other than we met for breakfast to discuss your employment and we came in to work together.”

She went silent but nodded.

“Use the phone by the bed and call Caroline.”

He loosened his hold so she could roll away, and he watched for a long moment, letting his gaze roam over her bare back and her rounded ass. God, she was beautiful.

Forcing his stare away from her, he turned to grab his cell, and while she spoke in low tones in the background to her roommate, he placed a quick call to his driver and gave him instructions to pick up Mia’s things from her apartment.

When he turned back over, Mia was sitting up on the bed, her expression still one of uncertainty and awkwardness.

What he wanted to do was pull her underneath him and plunge into her. He was hard as a rock, and the sheets were bunched around his waist, so at least she couldn’t see just how aroused he was. Not that she wouldn’t know very soon. And yet, he didn’t want to haul her underneath him just now. And he couldn’t even explain that particular thought since his overwhelming need was to get back inside her—as soon as he could part those gorgeous thighs and bare that pretty pu**y of hers.