Second Chance at the Riverview Inn (Riverview Inn) - Page 52

She wrapped her legs around his waist and her hands pushed the robe off his shoulders. Blood thundered through his body down to his dick. He arched against her and she moaned again—god, he loved that sound—pushing back into him.

Her skirt had flipped up when she lifted her legs around his waist and it was just his dick against what felt like damp, silky underwear. He pushed, sliding against it, finding the sweet dip between her legs.

She leaned back against the door, her hands running over his chest. The stupid tattoo he got when he and Alex were eighteen; the much better tattoo he got when he had some money and some sense.

Her thumb brushed his painfully hard nipple and he gasped. Her eyes, wide and curious, narrowed with intent and she pressed harder with her nail, her eyes watching him, gauging his response.

He ran his hands along her thighs, under that skirt to her ass, which he squeezed with both hands, his fingers slipping under the elastic of that silky underwear.

“Yes,” she whimpered, her breath hitching and breaking.

Every reaction of hers went through him like a thunderbolt, magnified and hot. And he didn’t know how to tell her they needed to slow down. That he wanted to make this good for her, but he was raw and losing it. He was a full-grown man, a fucking rock star. And he felt like a boy in front of her.

He stepped back, and her legs slipped to the floor.

A breath, he thought, just a breath to get himself under control. But she shoved the rest of the robe off his body and he stood there naked. So naked.

Almost too naked. Her eyes taking in every inch of him. And he felt all at once how he hadn’t been totally truthful with her. And he’d exerted some of his star power on her to get her to pick him up and go to Danny’s, and yet he didn’t know how to reconcile this moment.

He was so powerless in front of her.

And then she reached down and cupped his dick. Her fingers soft but not light. She bit her lip, looking at him through her lashes and he almost lost it right there. Slowly, she stroked him. Her thumb over the top, where precome he could not control oozed out of him. Again, she did it. Both hands. One cupping his balls, the other jacking him. He grabbed her face, his fingers tangling in her hair, bringing her close to him. The plan was to kiss her, kiss her senseless. Kiss her like he needed her to breathe. But she squeezed just right. Just perfect and he gasped. Shaking. Pressing his head to hers.

“Yes,” he whispered. Breathing her in, breathing her out.

“I want…”

“Yes,” he whispered.

And then she was slipping onto her knees in front of him. And he dared not look down. It would be over if he looked down. It would be as close to a sexual disaster as he’d gotten in years if he looked down.

He looked down.

And she was so pretty, her hair around her shoulders. Her eyes intent. Her face so serious. And then she leaned forward and licked him. Slipped her lips over him. Her breath hot, her mouth so wet and tight.

He stared up at the ceiling. Ever sense completely wrapped up in her. She hummed in her throat, a happy little sound that made him insane for her. For more of her. All of her.

Don’t look down.

He looked down.

He’d lived every fantasy only to realize they were empty. Shallow. But this, her on her knees in front of him, loving this as much as he was…, it was so real it hurt. It pierced him.

He stepped back and she fell forward a little catching herself on his legs. There were a thousand things he could do, pick her up and put her down on the bed being top of the list, but even that was too much. He was down on his knees on the rug with her, his hand pulling her shirt over her head. Slipping beneath the skirt to find her wet and hot.

“I can’t,” he breathed into her mouth. Wait. Stand it. Imagine tomorrow.

“Me neither.”

He reached for the wallet he’d taken out of his back pocket before his shower—when he’d been a cooler and calmer version of himself—and put on his bed, thinking about this moment but it in a more abstract way. Not knowing how ravenous he’d be. How crazed.

Pulling his fingers away from her body was like going into the cold after being in a sauna, but the condom wrapper wasn’t going to open itself. Without his hand distracting her, she bent forward again, her lips over his cock, and he hissed and fought for control and finally had to push her away just so he could keep his wits about him.

Tags: Molly O'Keefe Romance
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