His bones were liquid as he lay there trying to catch his breath. His heart thundered, roaring in his ears, and he inhaled deeply, taking with him the scent of sex, of sweat, and Wren’s citrusy shampoo.
“I’m crushing you,” he said when he could finally speak. He started to lift himself off her, but her hands went to his ass, keeping him in place.
“Just a few more minutes,” she murmured, her voice muffled by his chest. “I like this.”
Ah, Christ. This girl knew just how to burrow in deep and attach herself to him. He liked her—a lot. The sex was phenomenal. She was smart. She seemed to tolerate his bullshit. She made him laugh. She made his dick hard. She kissed him, and he never wanted to stop. And she didn’t complain when he came too fast or smashed her into the mattress with his body weight.
He made sure she had an orgasm. They were two for two so far. If she gave him some time to rest, he’d be inclined to see if they could make it three for three.
“I’ll be right back,” he said a few minutes later before rolling off her and climbing off the bed. He removed the condom and tossed it into the trash can in his bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The light was off, but he could still see himself thanks to the moonlight filtering through the small window near the ceiling. His hair was a disaster, his eyes were droopy, and his mouth was swollen. He scratched at his chest, glanced down at his—well, what do you know?—semi-erect cock, and was surprised he was still sporting wood.
He didn’t look any different, but damn, he felt different. He felt . . . alive. His skin tingled, and his heart thumped extra hard. That had been, without a doubt, the best sexual experience of his life. He’d kissed her, went down on her while she leaned against the wall in his hallway, and fuck, it had been so damn good. The way she writhed on his lap, stroked his dick, how perfectly their bodies fit, all of it added up to a mind-blowing experience. There hadn’t been anything particularly unusual or outrageous about the actual act between them. Truly, it was mostly standard fare, if he was being honest.
But he’d experienced it with Wren. That’s what pushed it to another level. He liked her. When he touched her, kissed her, it felt like it meant something. He just had sex with a girl he cared about. And he wanted more.
He wanted it all.
“Tate,” Wren called, interrupting his thoughts. “Come back to bed.”
He’d do whatever she wanted, no questions asked.
Smiling, he strode back out into the room, scratching his chest as he approached the bed. Wren had rearranged herself so she was sitting up, propped against a mountain of pillows, the dark blue sheet wrapped tight around her chest and tucked under her arms. Her hair was in complete disarray, and her skin was flushed a rosy pink.
She was . . . beautiful.
He stopped at the side of the bed, letting his gaze rove over her, his cock magically growing harder by the second just by looking at her.
Wren noticed, her gaze dropping to his dick, her eyes widening before they returned to his. “Already?” she asked, her voice a squeak.
He nodded, reaching down to stroke himself. He wished she was the one stroking him, but he’d settle for his own hand for the moment. “You up for another round?”
She sat up straight and let the sheet fall into a puddle around her waist, exposing her perfect, mouthwatering tits. He was immediately seized with the urge to suck on her nipples. “Okay,” she said breathlessly.
Without hesitation he climbed onto the bed and grabbed her, rolling over so she was on top of him, her legs sliding down to wrap around his hips as her hot pussy pressed against his stomach. He rested his hands on her rounded ass, pulling her in so he could feel all that wet, hot warmth on his cock. His eyes nearly crossed at the sensation.
“This time I want to take it slow,” he told her, his hands smoothing around to her hips, thumbs sliding down to toy with her pubic hair. “Take my time with you.”
“That sounds . . . perfect,” she agreed with an enthusiastic nod, making him chuckle.
He let his hands wander farther, caressing her soft, fragrant skin, enjoying the purrs of pleasure that emanated from her throat. Her hips grew restless, her pussy rubbing against his dick and nearly making him lose his shit. He sat up, drawing one perfect pink nipple between his lips to give it a thorough suck.
“I hope you realize this won’t be for just one night,” he told her after he released her nipple from his mouth.
She tilted her head down so their gazes met. “What do mean?”
“Us. This.” He waved a hand in between them. “It’s not a one-time deal.”
“All right.” She sunk her teeth into her lower lip, blinking at him, looking unsure.
“I want more.” He kissed her, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, making her moan when he pulled away. “This is too good to give up on.”
Wren kept on blinking, like she couldn’t compute what he said. “Wait a minute. Are you serious?”
He nodded, his expression solemn, his heart pounding. He’d never said this sort of stuff to a woman. He wasn’t one to make promises he couldn’t keep. But Wren . . . was different. She deserved so much more than he could probably give, but he’d try anyway. He wanted to make her promises. He also wanted to keep them.
He cared about her.
Could see himself falling in love with her if he didn’t watch it.