Book 1 - Page 48 (1/2)

Bennett shook his head, leaning over me and propping himself up on his hands. Mercifully, he started moving, hips s.h.i.+fting forward and up, pus.h.i.+ng deep into me. My eyes rolled closed. He hit the perfect spot again and again and again.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

I looked up, watched the sweat bead on his brow, his lips part as he stared at my mouth. Shoulder muscles bunched as he moved, his torso shone with a thin layer of sweat, and I watched where he moved in and out of me. I’m not sure what I said when he pulled almost all the way out and then pushed hard back into me, but it was quiet and filthy and instantly forgotten as he pounded into me. “You make me feel c.o.c.ky. It’s the way you react to me that makes me feel like a f**king G.o.d. How can you not see that?”

I didn’t answer, and clearly he didn’t expect me to, his gaze and the fingers of one hand drifting down my neck and over my br**sts. He found a particularly sensitive spot and I gasped.

“It looks like someone bit you here,” he said, his thumb sweeping across his bite mark. “Did you like it?”

I swallowed, pus.h.i.+ng up into him. “Yes.”

“f.u.c.king wicked girl.”

My hands slid over his shoulders and down his chest, across his abs and to the muscles of his hips, my thumb running back and forth over his tattoo. “I like this too.”

His movements grew jagged and forceful. “Oh, f**k, Chloe . . . I can’t . . . I won’t last long.” Hearing his voice so desperate and out of control only intensified my need for him. I closed my eyes, focusing on the delicious feeling beginning to spread throughout my body. I was so close, teetering right on the edge. Reaching between us, my fingers found my c.l.i.t and I began to rub it slowly.

Tilting his head, he looked down at my hand and swore. “Oh, f**k.” His voice was desperate, his breath coming out in deep pants. “Touch yourself, just like that. Let me f**king see you.” His words were all I needed, and with one last brush of my fingers, I felt my o.r.g.a.s.m overtake me.

I came hard, clenching around him, the nails of my free hand digging into his back. He cried out, his body seizing as he came inside me. My whole body shook in the aftermath, tiny tremors continuing even as my o.r.g.a.s.m faded. I clung to him as he stilled, his body sinking against mine. He kissed my shoulder and my neck before placing a single kiss to my lips. Our eyes met briefly, and then he rolled off me.

“Christ, woman,” he said, exhaling a heavy breath, forcing a laugh. “You’re going to kill me.”

We rolled to our sides in unison, heads on our pillows, and when our eyes met, I couldn’t look away. I lost every hope I ever had that the next time would be less powerful, or that our connection would somehow melt away if we just got it out of our systems. This one night with a “truce” didn’t dim anything. I already wanted to move closer, kiss the stubble on his jaw, and pull him back over me. As I gazed at him, it became clear to me that when this ended, it would f**king hurt.

Fear gripped my heart and the panic from last night returned, bringing an uncomfortable silence with it. I sat up, pulling the sheets with me and up to my chin. “Oh, s.h.i.+t.”

His hand shot out, wrapping around my arm. “Chloe, I can’t—”