Speed King (Men of Action 1)

“Fucking shit.”

A sense of empowerment rises. I am responsible for his strained control. Our hips find a rhythm, meeting and moving together expertly. Need sparks low in my core, and I close my eyes, lost in what’s happening.

The pressure is exquisite, and too soon, a wave of pleasure so intense washes over me. I scream his name, my body quaking as I come apart.

“Harley, give me those eyes.” It’s a ragged plea.

My eyelids flutter open in time to see him drive twice more before slamming hard and roaring my name. His dick pours into me, jerking over and over, threatening to bring me to the brink again.

He closes in, careful not to crush me, kissing me gently as we catch our breath.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m prefect.”

“Did I—?”

I place a finger to his lips. “Seriously, Achilles, stop before you say something barbaric and ruin my high.”

“Your high?”

“No amount of self-satisfaction comes close to what is floating and zinging through my body right now. If you weren’t on top, I’d probably be levitating above the bed.”

He grins against my finger before sucking it into his mouth. In a flash, we’re up and I’m wrapped around him again.

“What are you doing?”

“Rewinding eight hours and giving you what you want.”

He walks us straight into the shower, shielding me from the cold spray and turning when it’s warmed. “We’re taking a shower?” Confusion bleeds through my question.

“You seem to have a thing for me in the shower.”

I slide down his body, grinding slowly when I come into contact with the firmness between us.

“Careful,” he bites out.

“Am I hurting you?”

“Savage torture that’s fucking perfect.” His voice is rough, sending a tremor through me. “I’m washing you, making sure you’re really okay, then I’m taking you back to bed so we can explore more of this self-satisfaction theory.”

There’s an unspoken promise in his words that sends an entirely different tremor racing through my system.

The bed dips right as a strong arm circles my waist and Ace’s hard body curls around me. Through the slits of my eyes, I see it’s dark.

“Are you okay?” I ask drowsily.

“Yes, go back to sleep.” He sounds suspiciously alert for the middle of the night.

“Sweetie, I know you’re programmed to function on little sleep and work nights, but normal people sleep when it’s dark outside.”

He chuckles softly and kisses the bare skin of my shoulder. “I’ll have to remember that.”

I’m close to dozing off again when the unmistakable aroma of cinnamon and maple fills the air. “What is that delicious smell?”

“Ford made waffles. I snagged one.”

The news doesn’t faze me until I comprehend what he said. “Why is Ford making breakfast at this ungodly hour?”

He smiles, his stubble tickling my skin. “Baby, it’s almost noon.”

My eyes fly open, and I jolt. He tightens his hold, throwing his thigh over mine. “Noon! It’s pitch black in here.”

“Blackout curtains,” he explains.

“Achilles! Why didn’t you wake me up? Half the day is gone.”

“You were sleeping hard. Figured your body needed the rest.”

I pick up immediately on the underlying meaning of his words, and my heart melts at his implication. “My body is fine,” I assure him softly.

“You were peaceful.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him how he could see me in the dark, but I already know the answer.

“How long have you been up?”

“A while.”

We lay until I’m fully awake and need to get up. “Will you turn on the light, so I don’t break my neck trying to stumble my way to the bathroom?”

He twists, taking me partly with him and switches on a light, then sits us up. “Do you want me to carry you?”

“No, caveman. I think I can make it on my own.”

He smirks, laying back and roaming his eyes over my naked body. I cover myself, then remember he’s had his hands and mouth on every inch of my skin and there’s no use in being shy.

Once I’m through with my routine in the bathroom, I inspect myself in the mirror and half expect to see someone else staring back at me. Besides a few noticeable marks across my breasts, I look exactly the same. Something in the shower catches my eye. When I realize it’s the bottoms of my bikini that were left in the hot tub, a giggle escapes. The outfit may have been sexy, but it wasn’t very durable.

Which is probably the point.

I make a mental note to buy another one for the mere pleasure of seeing Achilles’ reaction.

A loud crash of thunder sounds outside, followed by droplets of water hitting the tile block window. I go to the closet and throw on some clothes, then take my bag back to the bathroom to pack the rest of my things. Physically, there may be no difference in my appearance, but emotionally, I’m floating on cloud nine. In less than forty-eight hours, my world has taken a massive shift. It’s not about only the sex; it’s about the commitment and the way Achilles treated me afterward. His words from Friday night pop back into my mind. He cherished me. I grab my toothbrush and face wash, lost in thought.