Southern Player (Charleston Heat 2)

For a second I just stay there. Gritting my teeth. Her body so warm and slick and soft. Trusting. Eyes still on mine.

I have never—

I’ve never—

Fuck, I can’t, so I just move. I draw back my hips, slow. Thrust forward. Slow. Using my whole body.

Gracie rocks in time to my movements, mouth open. Canting her hips to meet me at the top of every stroke. Our bodies rising and falling. Rising and falling. Perfectly, effortlessly in synch. Eager, but not rushing.

She moans when I swivel to hit her clit. Her brows come together again, eyes dark and glassy. Hand on my chest, fingers digging into my skin. Like she’s falling and she’s desperately trying to grab onto something, anything.

Like she’s overwhelmed. Helpless.

I’m hit by a rush of emotion. After all she’s been through—the disappointment, the heartache—she’s still allowing herself to be vulnerable with me.

She’s letting me in. Eyes on mine. Scared but meeting me head-on anyway.

I grab her hand. Slide my fingers between hers as I bring our joined hands over her head.

And then I move. Harder now. Deep, athletic dips of my body as I grind into her.

I adore you, I say with my lips, moving them down her throat.

I want you, I say with my legs, using them to drive into her, again and again and again.

I love you, I say with my fingers, twining them more tightly around hers.

“Luke,” she pleads, head falling back when I thrust my deepest yet.

I take her sweet mouth in mine. Finally closing my eyes because I’m gonna die of too much if I don’t. Tangling our eyelashes.

My heart is in my mouth. Can she taste it, I wonder?

She’s roping her arm around my neck now. Digging her fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck. Making me wanna howl.

I reach down and grab her knee. Guide it up to my waist, deepening our angle just enough.

Then I swivel my hips. Trying to hit her clit.

I guess I do, because her cunt clenches around me. Just once. Softly.

Almost there.

I’m there, too. Holding on by a thread.

I look her in the eye. Then I lean down and kiss her. Deep. Good. The kind of kiss that draws her up—I know she likes it when I use my tongue, my teeth. When I tilt my head a little and pluck at her top lip.

Mine.

That’s all I got. After getting so pensive tonight, contemplating so many competing ideas—

Mine.

I swivel my hips again. She cries out into my mouth, teeth clanking against mine. Eyes closed.

I do it again. Those sparks at the base of my spine turning into a full on explosion.

She. Comes.

Squeezing my dick in a vise. Her whole body convulsing. She grabs at me, like she needs something to hold on to. Someone to hold her.

I thrust again through her spasms.

My vision goes blank.

And then I come, too, with a roar I don’t recognize as my own.

Burying my face in her neck, I pour myself into her. Balls tightening, cock pulsing. Cum all over the place.

I forgot how messy—

“Shit,” I say, pulling back to look at her face. “I didn’t ask if I could come inside you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she breathes. Hands on the small of my back, holding me against her. Keeping me inside her. “We’ll be okay, Luke.”

Her eyes are still closed. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth. Like she’s reveling in the sensation of me.

Like she never wants to let me go.

I scrunch up my face against the intensity of everything that makes me feel.

My cum is already seeping out of her, soaking the sheets.

The smell of sex and sweat fills my head.

My heart is racing.

“Still think we’re too different?” she asks with a scoff.

I scoff, too. “I know we’re not different here. In bed. But outside of it…”

Her breath catches. A pause. Then she opens her eyes and says: “Ever consider that’s one of the things I adore most about you? How different you are from anyone else I’ve been with?”

“You mean that?”

“I do.” She reaches up and runs her hand through my hair. “I like your world. I like it so much I want you to show me more of it.”

Christ do her fingernails feel good against my scalp.

When was the last time someone loved up on me this way? Fun is one thing. But this…

With the right person, this is heaven.

“You really wanna see more?” I ask.

The skin around her eyes is crinkling again. “I do.”

Yup. I am fucking done here.

Talk about whiplash. An hour ago, I was nursing a very real fear that this was never gonna work out.

And now here I am, sticking my neck out like it definitely will.

Lord have mercy.

I don’t know if I’m planting seeds of hope or just being a dumb jerkoff who lets the wrong head lead him around.