“Oh God,” she said, falling back onto the bed. “Joshua!”
I pushed into her, sliding, slowly deeper and deeper until I could barely think. The sight of the bare breasts I’d thought about too often since she’d come back into my life, the tightness of her pussy, the warmth in her ice blue eyes—I’d barely moved and already I wanted to come and come and come.
She was a fucking goddess.
She shifted her hands up my arms and drew her legs up either side of my hips. The scent of cinnamon washed over me. “You okay?” she asked.
“I’m more than okay. You feel fucking fantastic.” I began to move. Softly at first, trying not to bubble over too soon. I breathed in the sound of her gasps and moans. I gorged on the sight of her undulating breasts. I closed my eyes to dive into the feel of her hands, her hips, her sweet, sweet pussy.
A sharp twist of her hips and the panic in her eyes told me she was close. I smiled. Fuck, I liked that I could make her come. I liked that my body fit so well with hers, that I could make her feel so good. I hooked my arms over her shoulders and thrust harder and harder as she convulsed around me. I slowed to allow her to recover until she called out my name in a soft call of surrender. Something in her timbre cut through my self-control like a blade. I couldn’t hold back. My orgasm crashed through me, violent and urgent, like my body was fulfilling a primal need to give this woman everything.
Shit. What was that?
Sweaty and confused, I rearranged us so we lay spooned together, my arms around her waist. “You okay?” I asked, once our breathing had returned to normal.
She nodded, her long, soft hair gliding against my chest like a sheet of silk. “I’ve heard it was possible, but I’ve never had two orgasms like that before. Do most women you’re with do that?”
As much as I loved how straightforward Hartford was, now wasn’t the time to be making any comparisons. “Let’s just focus on—” I caught myself before I said us. There was no such thing. “Let’s focus on you.”
I shifted her leg back and over mine and slid my hand between her folds. “This is so good. I love how wet you are.”
“That’s a turn on?” she asked.
“Of course,” I answered, a very willing teacher. “I did this to you. My cock made you this wet. It makes me feel powerful.” Her hips circled, grinding her arse against my cock. In seconds I was harder than I had been the first time.
She reached back and clenched my length in her fist, squeezing and releasing as I strained under her fingers. “Yeah. I get that.”
A growl reverberated in my throat. I wasn’t sure how we’d got here but I wasn’t sorry. She felt better than I could have possibly imagined.
I reached for another condom, and when I’d covered myself, slowly pushed into her from behind. This time I didn’t stop. As if we shared a mind, both of us made small, perfect, restrained movements that drew out each other’s pleasure.
“It’s so good,” she said. “Less but more at the same time.”
I let out a small groan. I knew exactly what she meant. I tried to keep my pace steady and my movements smooth. I wanted to stay like this for hours—her skin against mine, my heartbeat against hers. It was as close as we could ever possibly be.
It was fucking perfect.
Nineteen
Hartford
I squeezed my eyes shut in a long blink. Focus, I said to myself. I was about to have an important meeting with Gerry. I couldn’t be thinking about the delicious way Joshua’s thumbs pressed into the space next to my hip bones, the way his tongue felt against my skin, his expression when he came. I had to focus.
I pulled back my shoulders and knocked on Gerry’s office.
“Yes,” Gerry’s tone was uncharacteristically snappish. “Hartford.” He glanced up at me. “Good, good. Come and sit down.”
I’d been working on trying to find a way to stop Merdon from launching Calmation as an over-the-counter drug. But there were limited things we could do when we couldn’t talk about Calmation publicly.
“What do you have for me?”
I slid across an article I’d written about the dangers of ADHD drugs for children being available over the counter. “This one is the right length for Health Service Journal. This one,” I said, handing him another piece of paper. “is a little longer and more specific, which will be right for the BMJ.”
I paused while he read them both.
“If only we could mention Calmation by name—call them directly to the mat.” He scratched his chin.
“We lose a lot of power because it’s not specific. There’s no target we can go after. If we could talk about Calmation itself, we could get you on news programs, go on social media—really make it a campaign. I think we need to start fundraising, so we’ll be ready to legally challenge the regulator’s decision. We need to get signatures from top pediatricians all over the world saying what a bad decision this is.”