Addicted to You (Addicted #1)(41)

I succumb to his hardness and the way his rough movements dominate my bones. He lifts my leg around his hip but keeps my other on the bed.

I usually take control, pouncing on my prey, but here, every action has equal intensity. My fingers run through his soft hair, and his mouth sucks on my nipple, his tongue swirling around while I buck against him. Oh…

“Lo,” I moan. I can’t do this much longer. He’s too far away. There’s too much distance. “Closer.”

He pulls my arms above my heads, stretching me, and I cry out, my toes curling. “I need you. Please…ahh…” I’m in my zone.

He sheds his shorts, and I try to climb on him again, but he returns to my arms, pulling them once again. He stares deeply into my eyes, his body melding perfectly into mine. “I’m not one of your conquests,” he says in a throaty voice. “I know what you want, and you don’t need to take it. I can give it to you.”

His fingers slide beneath my bikini bottoms, finding the sensitive place. They slip in and out quickly—so fast. I shudder and moan and try to speak but words don’t come. I’ve reverted to caveman talk in grunts and groans and shrieks.

“Stay still,” he orders, stepping off the bed, which rises without his weight. He walks across the room, completely naked, and fishes out a few condoms from his suitcase. I drink in his whole body. Even his…wow. That has definitely grown since the last I saw it.

He rips open the condom, climbing back on the bed. Unbearable seconds tick by, and I squirm, impatient.

He smiles and kisses me again, long and hard. Ah…I shudder. And then he fills me. His hips grind against mine, and he presses down with each thrust, getting as close as possible. I shut my eyes and turn my head, a natural reaction as I float away with the overwhelming sensation.

He grips my chin, still moving against me, and turns my face to his. “Look at me.”

My eyes snap open, and his words send my body in a tailspin. I cry out. “Lo…” I grip his back tightly for support. “More.”

He pumps, and his amber eyes stay on mine, driving in and out. In and out. Deeper and deeper. I am lost to his scotch-colored irises. In the way he stares into me. No one has ever looked at me like this.

Everything bursts.

I’m flying into the most blissful feeling in the world.

I never want to come down.





{11}


Most nights, I pass out after sex, willing on sleep to avoid any communication with the other guy. As this bliss seeps away, I can’t close my eyes. My head spins from the event, desperately trying to quantify what just happened.

Lo silently climbs off the bed and tugs on a pair of black boxer-briefs over his bare ass. He rescues a fallen bottle of bourbon and a glass from the counter. I tighten the navy sheets to my chest, and he hops on the bed, the mattress bucking underneath me.

More gently, he takes a seat at the foot.

He wants to talk. I suppose I do too. I think it may be where we went wrong the first time.

“Thanks,” I say first.

His eyes flicker from the dark liquid to me. “I didn’t do it all for you, you know?”

“I know.”

He licks his lips. “Where is your head at?”

“I’m confused,” I say truthfully. “I think I’ve been confused for a long time. I haven’t known if you’ve been playing into our lie or if you really mean to touch me the way you do.” Saying that feels really good.

He looks at me deeply. “I’ve wanted to have sex with you again since the first time,” he admits. “But you had all these rules, and I didn’t want to be the clichéd horny guy trying to abuse your addiction. So I was waiting for you to ask me to do it again.”

I frown. Why didn’t I? “I thought it was part of the lie. I thought you were just pretending.” How could I know that he wanted more?

His jaw locks and he shakes his head. “I’ve never pretended, Lil. We’ve been together, even if you thought it was some fucking lie. We just weren’t having sex.” He stares at his glass. “On bad days, I’d touch you more than I should, I admit. Like when Daisy spent the night, but I was hoping you’d finally open your eyes and realize that I was there. You didn’t have to suffer or go be fulfilled by some other guy. I was right in front of you.”

“I just thought you were teasing me.”

He nods. “I know. It didn’t work how I planned.” He swishes the alcohol in his glass, staring. “I understand your addiction, and I’m only bothered by the other guys when I tempt you to that place. I blame myself for making you aroused, hoping that you’ll finish with me. But you never do, and in the end, some lucky bastard gets what I want. I had everything with you, the good and bad parts of a real relationship, except the sex.” He inhales deeply. “I wanted it, but on your terms.”

“You’ve been waiting around for six years,” I say, staring off. Six years of miscommunication. One of us could have opened up. Instead we let the tension build between us, growing a lie.

“The worst part was hearing you.” He shakes his head. “You know, I’d stay awake, listening to you, wondering if your cries would turn terrified, wondering if some guy decided to take advantage or hurt you. But I can’t…” He pauses on the words.