One to Love (One to Hold 4)

“You taste so sweet,” he said.

“It’s this... organic lotion,” I sighed over the need aching in my core. “Edible.” Another sharp breath as his tongue touched my skin.

“It’s good.” He stood briefly to discard his jeans. His shirt was still on, but I wasn’t in the mood to fuss over details.

We were both ready, and I licked my lips as he rolled on the condom. Eyes darkened at my gesture, and in one swift motion, he was on the bed, sliding between my thighs.

“Oh, yes,” I hissed, lifting my hips as he filled me, stretching every part of me like before.

His mouth moved from my shoulder, up my collarbone, to my neck as his hips rocked slowly into me. I wanted him to fuck me hard like he had the night before, but he seemed to be pacing himself, going slower this time.

“I want to taste all of you,” he groaned, moving a little faster. “Your skin is like sugar.”

“Oh, god,” I moaned. The rocking of his hips was hitting my clit, causing sparks to radiate down my legs with every thrust. “Just don’t stop.”

That seemed to make him move faster, and the building sensation was making me crazy with desire. It was tingling and sparkling, and if he dared stop, I was sure I’d die. He didn’t, in fact his forcefulness was back. His head lifted, our eyes locked, and the burning lust I saw there pushed me over the edge.

My back arched as the orgasm shook through my thighs. I cried out his name. His mouth covered mine, and I felt his groan rumble against my chest as he continued hitting me hard and fast. It was amazing and unbearable, and I didn’t want him to stop.

“Shit, Kenny.” His mouth broke away, and he slammed into me two more times before holding inside me, jerking with his orgasm. “Fuck,” he whispered through a ragged breath. A few smaller thrusts, and I felt his heart pounding in his chest against mine.

He relaxed in my arms, and I only wanted to hold him. He was buried deep inside me with my legs wrapped around his waist. His forehead was pressed against my neck, and in the afterglow it felt like our bodies melted together.

Lips moved against my skin. He kissed my neck softly before lifting his head to look into my eyes. “You made yourself for dessert?”

I laughed, breathing through my nose, as my fingers trailed a line from his forehead to his neck and shoulders.

“I actually bought angel food cake with fresh berries and whipped cream.”

“Mmm,” he leaned down to kiss the side of my jaw, slipping his tongue out and tasting me again. A ripple of shimmering aftershocks flow

ed through my shoulders. “That sounds good, but you’re more delicious.”

He rolled to the side, sliding out of me, and I sat up. “Give me two minutes.”

I scooped up the thin white tank he’d loaned me the night before, and in as short a time as possible, I was back, cleaned up and carrying a large slice of cake covered in mixed blueberries, strawberries, and raspberries. A generous dollop of whipped cream was on top.

Slayde had straightened the bed and sat with his back against the pillows. His green tee was still on, but with the sheet across his lap, I could tell he was nude from the waist down. His eyes traveled from what I carried down my body as I entered, and a spark simmered low in my stomach.

“Why so modest?” I teased, climbing on the bed beside him. Crossing to him on my knees, I forked a bite of cake and held it to his mouth.

He opened and took it. “I don’t understand.”

“The shirt.” I took a bite of cake. “I saw all of you last night, you know.”

“Mmm,” he looked down. “It was darker then. We were in the moonlight.”

“So I only get to see you in the moonlight? That doesn’t seem fair. Are you a shifter or something?”

He laughed. “Wrong nickname.”

My mind swirled around his words until finally it became clear Slayer. “You don’t have to hide your ink from me. I think it’s cool.”

His lips tightened and he looked down. “It’s not who I am anymore. Or who I want to be.”

Setting the cake on the nightstand, I turned back to him. His eyes rose to mine, and I tried to fill my gaze with warmth. “If you want to tell me, I’d like to listen. If not, I understand.”

He reached past me to the nightstand, dipping his finger in the whipped cream. “It can wait.”