Strangely comforted by the generosity of his restraint, she slowed to a less frenzied tempo, rocking forward and holding there for long, suspended moments, not releasing until her shaking muscles burned from the effort. She was crawling toward a point of no return. Closer…closer…just a little closer…
“Fuck.” His eyes closed. A dark flush invaded his cheeks. “Roxy.” He thrust deep. “You know the most reckless thing about this?”
That she’d thought she could hold onto sanity while he fucked her right out of her deluded little mind?
“Me,” he muttered and cursed again. “I’m about to come inside you like you’re mine to keep.”
The low growl of his voice pushed her gloriously close to euphoria, but as each word echoed in her head, an inner alarm blared. Late, but very, very loud. “Oh God. Don’t…” She pushed up onto her forearms and struggled to get her other knee under her. “Don’t come inside me, West. I’m not—”
“Shit.” He pulled out so quickly the hard, wet length of him slapped the inside of her thigh. “Shit,” he repeated as a heavy hand landed on the center of her back and held her down. A long, shuddering groan filled her ears seconds before hot, liquid ribbons lashed her ass cheek.
Chapter Twelve
“I’m so sorry.”
Those three soft words filtered through the rush of blood pounding in West’s ears. She was sorry? He let out a breath that was almost a laugh. It might have become one, except he pried his eyes open, and the sight of her lying there with her arms tucked under her chest, her hair a wild cascade across his sheets, her expression filled with earnest remorse didn’t strike him as funny. “Reckless, you’re the one who got flung over a bed, battered with a dick, stuck on the receiving end of a sloppy fuck”—he took an edge of the sheet and wiped the evidence of that particular offense away—“and short-changed an orgasm. Why are you apologizing? That should be my line.”
No, he hadn’t meant for this to happen. Had, in fact, promised himself it wouldn’t, and expended more willpower than humanly possible trying to keep the promise, but now that the battle was lost, the only thing he truly regretted was failing to get the job done for her. Letting that failure stand was not an option.
“I’m an idiot,” she insisted. “I didn’t think, until…” As she spoke, she started to push herself up, but he leaned over her, braced one hand by her shoulder, and palmed her between her legs.
“Don’t move.” He stroked her—still warm, still wet—and watched her eyelids flutter and her body sag back onto the bed. “My dick. My responsibility to keep it covered, and my responsibility to protect you.” He changed up the stroke and was rewarded with a little moan of pleasure. As a bonus, her cheeks turned pink. “And it’s my fault this tight, sweet, rudely neglected pussy is still aching. Give me another chance, Roxy. I can make it all better.” A damn sight better.
She shivered when he lightened his touch to the barest of caresses. “What did you have in mind?”
Her, coming so long and hard it erased all memory of her not coming the first time he’d been inside her. “It’s a two-part plan, actually.” Without warning, he flipped her over. Ignoring her gasp, he clasped her hips and repositioned her perpendicular across his bed. Then he dropped to his knees and dragged her closer to the edge. “First”—he guided one leg over his shoulder and kissed the inside of her thigh—“I give you a proper apology.”
Her face popped into his sightline, cheeks flushed, eyes hazy. “What’s a ‘proper’ apology?”
He liked that breathless note in her voice. Liked it a lot. “You’ll see.” He nipped her other thigh, picking a spot slightly closer to his ultimate target.
“Oh…hhh.” Her neck went limp while her knees clamped his shoulders. “A-are you sure this isn’t cruel and unusual punishment?”
“Never cruel,” he assured her and scraped his unshaved jaw along her smooth skin before placing a fleeting kiss against the pink patch left by his stubble. Her back bowed off the mattress. “Unusual? Maybe. That depends entirely on what you’re used to.”
“I’m not used to apologies. I mean, I’ve given a few here and there, but to be honest, I don’t think I ever learned to accept one very…um…gracefully.”
“You’re going to get one now.” He kissed higher. “And I’ll know you’ve accepted when you’re too swept up in the apology to give a thought to grace.” He swirled circles on her skin with the tip of his tongue before drawing back to breathe her in.
“I…oh Lord, if you insist.”
“I do. And once you’ve accepted every last bit of my apology, you know what I’m going to do?”
“Take your shirt back and arrest me for stealing?”
“Get a condom out of my nightstand, put you in whatever position you like best, and give you a proper fucking.”
Her knees clamped his shoulders a little tighter and then fell open. “We could skip right to that part. I’m totally cool with a proper fucking.”
“I’m not.” He moved her so both legs rested over his left shoulder. “Not until I apologize for this.” He kissed the underside of her ass, running his lips along the flesh he imagined still felt tender from bearing the brunt of their first round.
She gasped and flailed in a way that told him he’d found a ticklish spot, but he held her in place and took his time exploiting it, until all she could do was pant his name between shrieks of, “We’re good. All good. No, no, not again. Have mercy…”
“Forgive me for misusing this beautiful ass?”
“You don’t have to apolo…” Her reply dissolved into a moan and her whole body jerked against the restraint of his arms when he sank his teeth into one lush curve. “Oh geez. Yes! Yes, I forgive you.”
He raised his head and admired the faint mark he’d left. “Good. I hope that wasn’t too unusual for you, Roxy, because I’ve got a few more places to make up with.” Without giving her a chance to answer, he ran his tongue along the cleft separating those forgiving cheeks.