Risky (Torn Between Two Lovers #2)(32)

I melted into him as he held me in place and began to thrust up and into me over and over again.

Each stroke of his hips claimed me, consumed me until I could think of nothing else except slaking our desires. I lowered my upper body, letting my skin slide against his. My nipples were hard and tight, and I drew in a sharp breath as they were almost painfully stimulated as they slid along his damp chest.

I put my hands on either side of his head, looking down at him as he continued a punishing rhythm in and out of my channel. The expression on his face looked strained. I couldn’t make out his eyes, but I knew that if it were possible, I’d see them flashing fire.

“You’re so damn tight,” he growled.

Considering I was almost a virgin, that was highly possible.

“Am I hurting you?” His query was sharp and tortured.

“No. You feel perfect.”

I lowered my head and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips. It was erotic, sensual, every movement we made done with carnal heat.

His hand plunged between us, and his fingers strummed over my clit, making me start into another orgasm that I thought might kill me. “I can’t. Not again.”

“Again,” he insisted, groaning as my squeezing sheath started to tighten on his cock. “Fuck. Eva!”

We tumbled over the edge together, our bodies still connected as he released himself inside me.

“So damn good,” Trace spat out gutturally.

My heart and body echoed his words, but I couldn’t speak. It didn’t matter that Trace was literally tutoring me, and I didn’t care if the technique wasn’t perfect. All that was really important was the overflowing pleasure that spilled from my body and found its way to my heart.

I rested my weight on Trace, both of us gulping for air. In my heart, I knew the moment I got into his bed that I’d sealed my fate, but my attraction to Trace was too fierce, too damn strong for me to resist. I wanted to believe I could just live for today, but I knew tomorrow would come, and I’d pay for the things we’d done with a broken heart.

I was falling in love with Trace Walker.

Maybe I’d never been in love, but I knew what it wasn’t, and the way I felt about him was different from anything I’d ever experienced before. He was like crack, an addiction that I couldn’t turn away from if I could just get my hands on him again.

I let my head rest against his damp shoulder, my body riding with his labored breathing. “I should move.” He could breathe a lot better if I’d just move my ass.

His arms tightened around me, his hold like a steel vise. “Don’t. You’re exactly where I need you to be right now,” he insisted huskily.

I sighed and relaxed into his body, feeling safer than I’d ever felt in my entire life. Trace had become the one stable thing in my life, a man who cared. Not that I’d convinced myself that he loved me, but his possessive hold on my body screamed that he wanted me, cared about me. I held tightly to that, trying not to think about the day I’d have to walk away from him.

His lips skimmed my forehead lightly. “Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked sleepily.

“I’m good,” I reassured him. And I wasn’t lying. I felt happy, content. As long as I didn’t think about the future…


“I’m not sorry you’re here. I wanted you to come to me, Eva. But I have to know why.”

He let me move to his side, but he gathered my body against his, kept me pressed against his side as he added, “Don’t ever leave me.” He buried his face in my hair, his grip on my body tight and possessive.

His voice sounded slightly bewildered and vulnerable. My heart squeezed in my chest as I thought about the fact that Trace had his own vulnerabilities. Everybody in his life that he’d cared about had left him. His father, his mother, and to some extent, his siblings. Dane had withdrawn from life, and Sebastian was still trying to figure out who he was with Trace trying to make him grow up faster than he wanted to. In reality, Trace was just as alone as I was, even though he had the money to do whatever he pleased.

He's not happy.

I’d been able to sense his intensity and his restlessness since the moment we’d met. Maybe because I could relate to how he felt.

“This is supposed to be temporary,” I whispered to myself, quietly enough so he didn’t hear me, even as I drank in Trace’s musky scent and the joy I experienced in his arms.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I told him in a louder voice.

“Good.”

I sighed and let go of the future. Because of Trace, I had things to look forward to, things I never thought I’d have because of my past. I didn’t want to spoil the perfection of “now” to think about a doomsday tomorrow.

I snuggled into him and wallowed in the novelty of feeling safe and protected. I relished the fact that he wanted me with him now. In some ways, he needed me just as much as I needed him.

I swore to myself that before I left, I’d make sure Trace could laugh again, that he could connect with his family. I wanted to make him as happy as he’d made me for the last few weeks. He deserved it, and all I had to give was myself, my heart.

His breathing became relaxed and even, and I knew he was asleep. Tilting my head, I kissed his rough jawline and let myself follow him into a comfortable slumber, our bodies locked together like they’d never come apart again.