Fire Inside (Chaos, #2)(28)

“Takin’ my time, Lanie.”

“Faster, baby.” This time it was a plea.

“You take me as I give it and I’m takin’ my time.”

I moaned my disappointment against his mouth.

Hop kissed me.

That was better.

He took his time but he did it while kissing me.

Then he went faster.

That was also better.

Then harder.

That was even better.

Then his hand slid over my belly, down and his thumb found me.

That was the best and I knew it because I came. Hard. The explosion excruciating in its beautiful intensity.

“Look at me, Lanie.”

With effort, as what he gave me swept through me, I righted my head and slowly opened my eyes.

He stared into mine as he moved inside me.

“Most beautiful eyes I’ve ever f*ckin’ seen,” he part muttered, part growled, going faster, deeper, his thumb pressing in and swirling, and my hips jerked.

“Hop,” I breathed, not quite done coming when the impossible happened and it started building again.

“Missed your eyes, baby,” he whispered, his hips powering fast, his thumb pressing deep.

“Hop,” I panted, my limbs around him tensing.

“Missed you, lady.”

Oh God.

I pressed my mouth to his. He drove hard with his hips and pressed his thumb tight then circled.

The best.

I just had the best and, God, God, he made it better.

“Missed you too, honey.”

That was me, sharing what I shouldn’t, doing what I shouldn’t, holding tight, lifting my hips to get as much of him as I could, seeking his thumb, pressing against his body, my lips moving against his.

“I know you did, baby,” he groaned before his tongue slid into my mouth, his thumb executing a maneuver that should be patented. My second orgasm seared through me so deep, it had to have left an internal scar and I whimpered down his throat.

He planted himself to the root and his grunt turned into a groan that drove down mine.

We kissed through our orgasms and heavy breathing, miraculous and beautiful, and only when it slid away did his mouth and his ’tache glide down my cheek to my neck where he gave me the sweet crash after the mind-blowing high.

I held on, felt it, memorized it, every inch, his cock buried deep, his weight on me, the smell of him, his warmth, his mouth, the tickle of his whiskers, his everything.

Before I could accomplish this feat, he spoke.

“You’re sleepin’ here.”

I closed my eyes and my limbs convulsed before they loosened so I could prepare to push him away.

His hips pressed into mine. That felt really good, which was really bad, and I was dealing with that when his head came up.

“You’re sleepin’ here. When I let you sleep, you’re doin’ it not in your slut clothes but in my tee and tomorrow, when we wake up, we’re talkin’.”

“Hop—”

“Shut it.”

I shut it but my confused, scared, post-orgasmic haze lifted so I shut it on a glare.

Before I could take him to task for telling me to shut it, he began talking again.

“Tonight, you got drunk and you nearly got yourself raped. Tomorrow, we talk about what’s in your head, what’s in our future, and how we’re gonna play it. You are not closin’ down on me. You are not shuttin’ me out. I tried to give you that, you nearly got raped. I’m done givin’ you that.”

“We don’t have a future,” I informed him.

“We have a future,” Hop informed me.

“We don’t.”

“Lady, we do.”

My eyes narrowed and I snapped loudly, “Don’t!”

He grinned and pointed out, “Seated deep, babe. I get rid of this condom, gonna eat you until you come ’cause I miss you on my tongue. Then I’m gonna f*ck you again and maybe let you go down on me before I f*ck you again. You wanna keep arguing, we’ll do it tomorrow when… we…” his grin didn’t leave as his face dipped closer, “talk. Now, I gotta go get rid of this condom. You gonna do somethin’ stupid so I have to cuff you to the bed?”

His last words made me blink in surprise, and such was my surprise that I forgot how much his first words turned me on and how his words before that ticked me off.

Therefore, it was with curiosity as well as stupidity that I asked, “You have handcuffs?”

Hop moved, swiftly and unexpectedly. He pulled out. I gasped. He kissed my throat then my body was hauled around so I was righted in the bed. Before I knew it, one arm was up and one bracelet from a set of handcuffs was on my wrist, the other around a slat in his headboard.

My head tilted way back. I stared at my wrist cuffed to the bed.

“Yeah, Lanie, I got handcuffs.” Hop stated the obvious.

My eyes went to him.

He grinned.

I growled.

Yes, actually growled.

He smiled.

“Uncuff me!” I cried.

“Maybe, when I’m back from the can.”

“Hop, do not move before you uncuff me,” I demanded.

He bent and kissed my chest, then he did precisely what I told him not to and rolled off the bed, yanking his jeans up his hips.

“Hopper Kincaid, uncuff me!” I shrieked.