Take a Chance on Me(62)

She forgot to be embarrassed. Forgot about how she sounded or looked. Forgot about God’s watchful, disapproving eye as she clawed her nails down his back. She needed more.

He growled a low, primal sound from deep in his throat. He shifted his hips. He aligned the head of his cock at her opening, then thrust hard, filling her completely, only to freeze.

“Damn it.” He pulled out, and she tried to keep him within her, but he was too strong. “Princess, give me a second. I forgot the condom.”

Her lids were heavy; it was an effort to open her eyes. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a foil packet, rolling to a kneeling position between her legs. His lids were heavy, and his cheekbones looked carved from granite.

He was so beautiful: a work of art she wanted to capture on paper. The thought came from out of nowhere, surprising her, but before she could latch on to it, Mitch tore the package open with his teeth, then handed the condom to her.

“Put it on.”

His voice was a steely command, and she didn’t even think to refuse.

With trembling fingers, she took the latex ring. She sat up and positioned it over the head of his erection. Watching his face, she rolled it down his shaft inch by slow inch, reveling in the stark hunger etched over his strong features.

He hissed out a breath. Flipping her onto her back, he pulled her splayed legs over his thighs and thrust into her.

She was filled by and stretched tightly around him, and he didn’t move, letting her adjust to his length and girth. When her muscles loosened, he shifted, filling her impossibly further. She arched, stars crowding her vision as he ground his hips in a slow, mind-altering circle.

Then he started to move, each thrust setting her nerves on fire.

He didn’t make love to her. It was no gentle wooing. No, it was a claiming. He took her. Hot. Hard. Primal. Pumping into her with brutal thrusts.

“So.” He slammed into her. “Fucking.” With another drive home, his hips swiveled so the base of his cock hit her clit on the up stroke. “Good.”

She cried out. Relentless, burning desire threatened to incinerate her.

“Tight.” His voice low, he pushed her back onto the mattress. “Wet.”

“Harder,” she pleaded, the blinding need for release engulfing her.

He rose onto his hands and rocked into her, brutally, beautifully hard.

Over and over.

Faster.

Desire coiled deep in her belly.

Just a little more.

He reached between them and rubbed a finger over her clit.

She exploded, coming so hard that her vision dimmed to blackness as she nearly passed out from the fury of her climax.

Seconds later, he followed, pumping fast, with a loud roar that nearly shook the rafters.

Finally, the mad rush and thrust of their bodies stilled and the world slowed down. He rolled off of her, and they both stared up at the ceiling, gasping for breath.


“That was . . .” Mitch panted out, running a hand through his already impossibly messy hair.

Maddie giggled, another piece of that invisible weight she carried on her chest chipping away. “A total disaster.”

“Little brat.” He laughed. “You know what that means?”

“What?” She risked a glance at him, only to flush the second their eyes met.

“We’ll have to try again.”

“Until we get it right.”

He rolled over and kissed her. “I have a feeling it’s going to take quite some time before we’re even remotely proficient.”

Forever. The word slipped into her mind so smoothly, so effortlessly, she’d had to be thinking it on some visceral, unconscious level. The thought shook her. A slice of panic cut through her bone-deep relaxation.

She’d just met Mitch. She’d run out of her wedding precisely because she’d never been alone. Now, not even a week later, she imagined “forever”?

No. She refused to think about that. It was only her Catholic upbringing playing tricks on her mind, wanting her to be proper. That was all.

Mitch gripped her chin, pulling her away from her thoughts. “What is going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” she said, far too quickly.

He searched her face. “You know, Maddie, you can tell me anything.”

“Yes, I know,” she lied. She flashed a blinding smile.

His eyes narrowed doubtfully.

“I’m fine,” she said, fluttering her lashes at him. “Except for how awful the whole messy ordeal was.”

He rolled over, trapping her and pinning her under him. “I knew you liked it mean.”

Yes, this was what she needed. More sex. More Mitch. More blinding passion and explosive orgasms. She had no intention of confessing her unbidden thoughts of fairy tales. She’d stopped believing in happily ever after on that afternoon back when she was fifteen.

No amount of Catholic guilt was going to convince her otherwise.





Chapter Sixteen



Muscles Maddie hadn’t known existed ached as she padded down the back staircase to the kitchen below. Heat flooded her cheeks at the vivid memories of her night with Mitch.

The man was both inventive and deviant.

She stepped into the bright kitchen, the sun blinding after the dark hours in Mitch’s bedroom. She held her hand up to shield her face. “Ugh! Too bright.”