What He Wants (Second Chances #1.5)(13)

I was in heaven.

I had never felt this level of intensity with Daniel when were together, not even when we were in the early stages of dating when everything was new. This was completely foreign to me.

What was it about Brett that made it all different?

I couldn’t wait any longer to have him inside of me, so I grasped the button on his pants and opened them; it’d been too long. Chuckling, Brett slid off the bed and lowered his gray pants and boxer briefs to the floor.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked. “I figured you’d want to take things slow.”

“No,” I moaned breathlessly. “It’s been too long. If you make me wait any longer, I’m probably going to go insane.”

As soon as I got a good look at his body, I visibly trembled, which earned a chuckle to escape his lips. He towered over me on the bed, and spread my legs wide so he could rest between them. Reaching toward his dresser, he opened the top drawer, pulled out a couple of condoms, and expertly slid one down his long, thick cock.

“Well, then I guess I can’t leave you waiting.” Smirking, he lowered his lips to my breasts and flicked one of my nipples with his tongue. I gasped and arched my back, waiting on him to do it again. This time, when he closed his lips over me, he bit and sucked hard while massaging me with his strong hands.

Groaning, he opened my legs wider and pushed his cock in just an inch; it was enough to get me panting. More, I wanted to scream.

As if he heard my silent plea, he rocked his hips and slid in further … and further until he was fully inside of me, filling me. It hurt like hell—the burn making me clench and grit my teeth to keep from crying out—but it was a pleasurable pain. Slowly, Brett moved along to a silent rhythm and held me tight, alternating those lips of his to each one of my breasts, suckling and nipping them with his teeth.

“You feel and taste so f*cking good,” he growled, moving his lips to my neck. Holding my face in his hands, he brought his mouth to mine and thrust his tongue inside, claiming me in every way he possibly could.

He picked up his pace and thrust harder inside of me, lifting my legs and wrapping them around his waist; I gasped when I felt him go deeper. Instead of pulling out and pushing back in with long strokes, he stayed deep and rocked his hips hard, keeping a continual rhythm against my clit.

“Oh my God,” I cried, closing my eyes. “Please keep doing that.”

His low growl vibrated in my ear, and I could feel him getting harder inside of me. He was close … so was I. Squeezing him harder with my legs, I held on tight and bit his lip this time, feeling his cock pulsate.

“If you keep clenching down on me, baby, I’m not going to last.”

I wasn’t going to last either. Rocking my hips, I let my orgasm send me over the edge, crying out when Brett dug his fingers in my back as he too released inside of me. Slick with sweat, his muscles tensed and flexed beneath my hands as I held onto him, silently waiting on the pain to hit when he pulled out.

“Are you okay? I could see it in your eyes that it hurt you in the beginning.” Gently, he pulled out and rolled over to his side so he could slide the condom off and throw it away before holding me in his arms. He was so gentle; it made my heart ache. How I wish it could all be real.

“It hurt,” I admitted nervously, “but I figured it would once I got a good look at you.”

He smiled, but then it disappeared. “When was the last time you’ve been with a man?”

Sadly, I looked over at him and sighed. “A while.”

Brushing the hair off my face, he held onto my chin and kissed my lips. “Stay here and I’ll be right back. I know what’ll help you.”

Sliding off the bed, he strolled into the bathroom and shut the door. Water began to run and I could hear him moving around in the bathroom. A few minutes later, the door opened and I expected the light to blind me, but it didn’t; there was a soft glow coming from inside.

I started to get up, but Brett stopped me by pulling me up into his arms before I could get off the bed. “I got you, baby,” he murmured.

“I can walk you know,” I teased as he carried me into the bathroom.

The room was lit with candlelight, and the bathtub—big enough to fit ten people—was surrounded by dozens of them, and steamy from the hot, bubbly water.

“What did you put in the water? It smells amazing.” I couldn’t pinpoint it, but it kind of reminded me of chamomile and something else.

Shrugging his shoulders, he looked down at the water, his gaze far off … almost sad. “I’m not exactly sure. It was given to me years ago by someone very special to me. I was told it could help heal anything. I figured we both could use it tonight.”

He set me in the hot water and climbed in behind me; I immediately relaxed when he put his arms around me. I wanted to ask him who the special person was, but figured it was best to not know. I didn’t want to imagine him being with another woman.

Instead, I laid my head against his chest and breathed him in, trembling when he ran his warm hands over my heated skin. There was nothing sexual about the way he caressed my arms and my back, but my insides clenched and lit up like fire; I wanted him again. My body was sore, but if I only had one night with him I needed more.

The bathtub was filled almost to the brim with water, so I slowly turned around to face him, straddling his waist. Furrowing his brows, he gazed down at my lips, and then back up to my eyes.