Sneak Attack (Tapped Out 2)

Sliding lower, he spread the wetness we’d made, increasing it while I whimpered against his throat. There weren’t words for the depth of my need for him. I didn’t understand where it had come from, or how I walked around each day with this vast well of it inside me. Nothing ever quenched my thirst.

His fingers weren’t enough. As much as I loved them, and the way he plucked at my clit with such patience, extending the moment until I was shaking in his arms, I had to have more. There was only one thing that could feed this insatiable hunger.

I lifted my head and pressed my quivering hand to his cheek, pulling his mesmerizing gaze to mine. I knew he’d understand what I wanted without me having to ask.

His throat moved and his eyes brightened, flashing like wet jewels. Then he removed his hand from my panties and slowly, carefully, tugged them and my jeans off. He shifted me on his lap, and I straddled his knees while he fought with belt, buckle and zipper to get down his jeans and boxers.

With the blanket still shrouding us, he positioned me, drawing me over him in a fluid motion that was as effortless as sinking into a warm swimming pool. The ripple on my hips belonged to his hands pulling me down.

Taking him in, I inhaled and savored the burn of the air expanding my lungs.

I could breathe again.

His hands, the wonder and magic of them, slipped under my shirt to close over my breasts through my thin bra. Using them as anchors, he nudged me up and back down, the tempo of his thrusts matching the staccato pattern of his breaths. They exploded against my throat, against the underside of my chin. My knees dug into his hips and my fingers clamped on his shoulders as I used their strength to propel myself higher, faster. Knowing he raced with me, his heart surging in time with mine.

When I fell, he would too.

The need wound tighter and tighter in my belly, a tornado turned inward. It touched down everywhere, flattening everything in its path. I couldn’t think past the swamping urgency to take more, to bring him farther inside my body. Him filling me made the world bearable. Made me bearable.

I gasped as I clenched him, savoring the pressure of him opening me so fully. Of him stroking upward into me to warm all the spots that had gone dormant and cold. Nerves and needs flared to life, and my heavy breasts dragged over his chest with the rise and fall of my body. The blanket hung around my shoulders, and my shirt billowed around his hands kneading my flesh, and somehow even that increased the intensity.

We had to be quiet. Carly was sleeping. And yet screams were shrieking in my head, a silent accompaniment to the furor in my core.

Bending over him, my long hair streaming down to shelter us both, I shattered. Exploded into a billion glittery pieces. My cries burst against his neck, his cheek, his hair.

I went on autopilot, mindlessly driven to keep the sensations coming. I’d waited so long for them. For him.

For this version of me.

One of his hands streaked down my damp torso to clutch my hip as he groaned against my throat. The raw, ragged sound shot me over again, and I was still quaking from the aftershocks when he let go deep inside me. Drenching waves of heat scorched me from the inside out, extending my pleasure until I grew too sensitive to endure another second.

Replete, I slumped against his chest and curled around him with his still half hard cock pulsing gently inside me. I didn’t want to let that link go.

His big hand came up to cradle the back of my neck while we drifted together. I could’ve fallen asleep just like that.

If the buzzer hadn’t rung.

His low groan broke the sex trance, and I lifted my head to find him watching me with such worry and love that my throat constricted. How had I gotten so lucky? Surely there would be a price to pay for getting to be with someone so beautiful and perfect, even for a short time.

You already paid it. With interest.

I doubted that could be true. The debt kept mounting. All I could do was hope I’d still have something left in my account when I had to balance the scales for being with Tray.

The buzzer rang again.

“I’ll get it,” he said quietly.

I nodded, rising off his lap. The sigh that escaped as he left my body couldn’t be helped, and from his wince, he didn’t enjoy the feeling any more than I did.

Sinking onto the couch, I drew the blanket around me, huddling as if it wasn’t a sticky-hot September morning.

Tray tugged up his boxers and jeans and yanked up the zipper before moving to the window to open it. A warm breeze filtered into the room, lifting the ends of my hair. Clearly, he wasn’t chilled like me.

He cast me another quick glance before he went to the intercom. “Yeah?”

“It’s Gio.”

Normally that voice would’ve made me groan. Now I only watched Tray with a distant fascination, as if I’d never quite seen him before. Barefoot, he prowled across the room, his jeans hanging low on his hips. He opened the door and propped his arm on the jamb, waiting for Gio to arrive.