Retreat Page 91
His teeth scraped across my aroused and drawn nipple. His facial hair lightly abraded my skin where it dragged across my chest as he moved from one breast to the other, raising little bumps of pleasure and anticipation in its wake.
Since I was struggling with the weight and stiff leather of his belt, he pulled the thing out of the loops and efficiently popped open the button at the top. The press of his erection and the heat from his hand had little flutters of desire working through my damp folds and had my core clenching and unclenching in readiness and need. He had to lower me long enough to pull my underwear down my legs, but he didn’t give me enough time to strip off the skirt before he had it shoved back up around my waist and my legs spread wide and open to him. As soon as the heavy fabric of his jeans was out of the way, the center of where we touched was filled with a hard, unbending erection. The instant that rigid shaft hit my soft, wet, center we both groaned, ragged and rough.
I moved my fingers to his hair while he continued to eat at the aching, distended tips of my breasts. I tossed my head back until it connected with the door and bit my lower lip as he tilted his hips forward, driving the length of his cock through my folds and moisture that coated them. I swore at him impatiently as he rubbed himself back and forth but ignored my wiggling and squirming to get him where I needed him. I wanted him inside of me. I wanted him filling me up and spilling out of me. I wanted him looking directly at me while we moved on and with one another, so that he could see that he was it for me and that I intended to be it for him. I wanted him to rule and ruin me too.
I wove an arm across his massive shoulders. They were strong enough to hold me and the entire world up. I put a hand on his cheek and leaned forward so I could touch my lips light to his and then twisted my head so that my lips touched his ear. I traced the outside curve with the tip of my tongue and felt his entire, big body quake.
“I missed you, Cy.” The words came from a place that was beyond any doubt or reservations I may have had. They were words that had survived being scared and unwanted. They were words that painted a future and overcame my past. They were words that made me stronger and weaker than I had ever been before in my life because I missed him, and I missed who I was when I was with him.
His midnight eyebrows slashed down over his stormy eyes, and without warning, I was pierced, spread open, and pinned to the door as he thrust his rigid cock into my waiting body. The pressure from his invasion made my eyes pop wide and had my breath hitching. I could feel every burning inch of him as hard flesh dragged across sensitive nerves. He hooked the bend of my knees over his arms and pressed even more fully into me. This was as open as I had ever been, both figuratively and literally, for anyone. He was seeing all of me, he was taking all of me, and it felt like a tornado made up of flames as it pulsed and beat inside of me.
His hips canted, angled hard and fast against mine. This wasn’t seduction or persuasion. This was primal, uninhibited slacking of a need. This was working out the sting of being apart and leaving something unforgettable in its place. This was imprinting on one another, so when the other moved, there was no way to forget that we had been joined. I felt Cy in every line and curve of my body. And as he pounded, drove, and hammered his way deeper and deeper inside of me, I could tell by the tense lines in his face and the furious clench of his jaw as he struggled to remain in control that he felt me in all his tendons and fibers as well. We were weaving ourselves together through passion and promise, so tightly that nothing would ever be able to unravel us.
“Leo . . . two weeks is two too many. I’m not going to make it much longer.” That rare smile that was mine moved over his mouth. I felt my inner muscles clench around him, making him grunt in surprise, at the sight. The goatee made the grin wicked and dangerous. It was hot. He was hot. We were hot together. “I want you to always open the door when I knock and I’m about to blow . . . so help a desperate man out before he embarrasses himself, Sunshine.”
He was going to come before me, and for a guy like Cy, that wasn’t okay. He wanted to get his, but not until I got mine . . . which kind of made him perfect. I skimmed a hand over his collarbone and over the bulging, hard planes of his chest. There was no give, only corded, unyielding strength. He could hold onto me forever and never let me down. I let my finger tickle over his delineated abs, the muscles clenching and tightening under my touch. My fingers slipped easily between us, taunting, teasing both of us at the same time. I knew exactly where he wanted me to put them, that he needed a finger on the trigger so we both could go off, but I missed him, and I missed the way he felt slippery and slick as he moved in and out of my body.
The backs of my fingers danced over his straining erection as he slowed his rapid fire pace, breathing hard and looking at me with a whole new kind of storm brewing in his eyes. I smiled at him, and when he smiled back there was no more denying what we both needed. I brushed my fingers over my clit, the little nub stiff and eager for attention. The gentle caress was enough to make my eyes cross and it had everything inside me locking down around Cy and coating his cock with endless rivers of desire. He grunted as my body held onto his and it only took a couple of careful circles with my fingertip and some purposeful pressure from my thumb to push me over the edge. I wasn’t the only one falling, because as soon as I broke, I heard Cy mutter, “Thank fuck,” as he followed after me.
Knees shook, pelvises rubbed together hard enough to leave marks, muscles quivered as lungs struggled for air. Lips twisted into smiles that stretched infinitely and hearts tripped over each other as they reached out to let the other one know they were still there.