Tossed Into Love (Fluke My Life 3)

Wrapping my legs around his hips, my fingers dig into his shoulders as he fills me slowly. There isn’t any real pain, but there is pressure and a feeling of being full . . . so full.

“Oh,” I breathe, looking into his eyes as he goes still, deep inside me. He’s so deep that I know I will always feel him there.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

He links our fingers together, bringing them up to rest beside my head. He settles his hips deeper into mine before pulling out and sliding back in slowly.

“You feel so good.” His mouth takes mine in another brutal kiss while he keeps the slow, sensual pace of sliding in and out of me. When his mouth leaves mine again and he leans back to look at me, I swear I feel my heart fly right out of my chest and into his like it belongs to him. His eyes drop to our connection, and I watch them close before he looks at me once more. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you taking me.”

My hold on him tightens in every way, and I circle my hips. I need more—I’m just not sure what that is. His hand pulls mine down between us, and he uses both our fingers to swirl over my clit. “Oh god,” I gasp, my core tightening.

He grins.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking responsive to the tiniest touch.” He says it like it’s not a bad thing at all, but I still feel my cheeks get warm.

He circles my clit faster and faster, and a knot starts to form in my lower belly and my legs start to shake. “Let go, Princess.”

He nips my earlobe, and I do. My body goes still, and I let go, falling over the edge into bliss. Eyes closed, neck arched, he lets go of my hand and starts to move more quickly inside of me. The noises coming from him and me—the pants and groans, the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin—are enough to send me into sensory overload. When his hips stop thrusting and his body jerks, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and lift my face into his neck. I don’t want him to see the tears that are threatening to spill over. I never had any expectations for my first time. But it was perfect, beyond perfect. In the realm of magical. And it being with Antonio made it that much better, that much more special. Tucking his face into my neck, he rolls us over until I’m sprawled on top of him. His fingers slide softly up and down my spine.

“You okay?” he asks gently.

I nod my head, not trusting myself to speak—not yet. So many emotions threaten to close my throat. I never thought about the connection I would feel to the person I shared my first time with.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” I say quietly.

His arms tighten around me. God, I want to stay right here forever. Right in his arms, where I feel safe and wanted, free to be me even when being me is a little awkward.

“How about a bath?” he says thoughtfully.

Those stupid tears that I feel pooling in my eyes start to spill over.

“Baby . . .” He uses my hair to pull my face away from where I have it tightly tucked against his neck. “Why are you crying?”

“I . . . then you . . . then . . . that was beautiful. And you’re so sweet,” I blubber.

He sits up with me still in his hold and leans back against the wall.

“I’m sorry I’m ruining this.”

“You’re not ruining anything, Princess.” He smooths my hair away from my face and looks into my eyes. “We shared something beautiful. It’s a little overwhelming. I get that.”

“You’re not crying like a dork.” I wipe at my cheeks, and he smiles a soft smile at me, then kisses my lips. “Gah. I don’t even know why you like me,” I grumble.

His expression turns serious. “I like that you’re a little bit of a dork. I like that you don’t think before you say things to me. I like that you look just as beautiful without makeup as you do with it. I like that you rescue wild cats and have a deeper obsession with scary movies than I do. I like you for a lot of reasons, Princess,” he says.

My body goes still while my chest starts to get tight.

Oh god. Maybe my mom was right. Maybe I do love him. No, no, it’s too soon. That would be crazy. I would know. I would totally know if I was in love. Right?

“I . . .”

“You can think about what you’re going to say while I start us a bath.”

He carefully lifts me off him, and I whimper when he slides out. He places a soft kiss on my lips, then pulls the sheet up over me before he leaves me in bed and heads naked toward my bathroom. I listen to him flush the toilet, then hear the water in the tub turn on. I roll to my side and try to get my brain to start working properly. I know logically that sex doesn’t mean love, but what we shared felt like more than just sex. He said he liked me, gave me a list of reasons why. I like him, too—a lot more than I have ever liked anyone. Not only because he’s gorgeous, but because he makes me feel special and cared for. Because he’s sweet and gentle.