Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk 3)

bad idea.

However, before I could act either way, Michael’s hands moved over my body. With light strokes, he learned every inch of me—my ribs, my waist, my stomach. Then his hands glided around to my ass, and his kiss deepened, grew hungrier, and he drew me against his arousal. I could feel the war inside him as his tongue caressed mine in deep, wet strokes. It was like he was determined to take his time, but another part of him wanted to ravage me.

I found that war inside him sexually thrilling, not knowing which way this would go.

As I stroked my hands down his arms, the touch seemed to calm him, and his kiss grew gentler. He nipped at my lower lip and then he eased away. But only to stare into my eyes as he glided his hands up my back to my bra strap. With a dexterity I remembered from the times we’d fooled around in his car, he unhooked my bra. Then he nudged the straps down my arms, and it fell to the floor. His gaze slowly disconnected from mine and I shivered as his eyes grew hooded. His hands tightened around my biceps while he feasted on the sight of my naked breasts. My nipples peaked under his perusal, tight, needy buds that begged for his mouth.

Any concerns I had about how he’d feel about the changes in my body dissipated at the taut, desire-filled expression on his face.

“Dahlia,” he murmured as he reached up and cupped me.

I moaned and arched into his touch. Ripples of desire undulated low in my belly as he played with my breasts, sculpting and kneading them, stroking and pinching my nipples. All the time his eyes vacillated between my face and my breasts. I thrust into his touch, muttering my need for him.

The words had barely broken past my lips when his mouth found mine. This kiss was rough, hard, desperate, and his groan filled me as he pinched both my nipples between his forefingers and thumbs. I gasped, and his growl of satisfaction made me flush with pleasure. I was beyond more than ready. Feeling the fabric of his sweater beneath my hands, I curled my fists into it and jerked my lips from his. “Take it off.”

Thankfully, Michael executed my order. He let go of me, stepped back, and yanked his sweater up and off. As he threw it behind him and then worked on his boots and jeans, I reveled in the sight of him. His chest, arms, and abs were definitely more powerful than they had been nine years ago. He’d worked out regularly then too and had a gorgeous body, but the tight rippled definition of his abs and the breadth of his shoulders confirmed that his workout routine had become more vigorous.

I wasn’t complaining.

Uh-uh.

His thick thighs and muscular calves caused another hard flip in my lower belly, and I longed to see his ass. My God, I bet his ass was a thing of legend. I moaned when he had to peel his boxer briefs over his erection and when freed, he was so hard, it strained toward his abs.

Every part of my body swelled toward him as I watched him take a condom out of his wallet and roll it down his erection. No foreplay was necessary. I wanted and needed him inside me.

Whatever he saw in my countenance made him grasp me around the waist, but instead of guiding me down on the bed, he turned and sat on the edge. Then he guided me to straddle him, his arousal hot against my stomach.

Michael touched my chin, bringing my head up to lock gazes with me. My fingers curled into the back of his shoulders as I took in his expression. There was so much emotion in his eyes. Desire, need, yes. But also confusion, hurt, and something I didn’t want to process. It looked like fear, and I couldn’t bear that emotion in Michael.

Tears filled my eyes, and the visible emotion made his jaw clench. He slid his hand along the back of my neck, tangling in my hair to grab a handful. Then he gently tugged my head back, arched my chest, and covered my right nipple with his mouth.

I gasped as sensation slammed through me, my hips automatically undulating against him as he sucked, laved, and nipped at me. Tension coiled between my legs, tightening and tightening as he moved between my breasts, his hot mouth, his tongue—

“Michael!” I was going to come again with only this.

Then he stopped, and I lifted my head to beg, to plead for him to keep touching me, but halted when he gripped my hips. Guiding me, he lifted me up, and I stared down at him, waiting as he took his cock in hand and put it between my legs.

Taking his cue, I lowered myself onto him, feeling the hot tip of him against my slick opening. Electric tingles cascaded down my spine and around my belly, deep between my legs.

Michael.

I’m finally with Michael.

I’d never been so goddamn turned on in my life. Michael took hold of my hip with one hand and cupped my right breast with the other, and I gasped at the overwhelming thick sensation of him as I lowered.

The coiling tension left over from the orgasm he’d given me exploded with only the tip of him inside me.

I cried out and clung to his shoulders as my climax tore through me, my inner muscles rippling and tugging and drawing Michael in deeper. Shuddering, my hips jerking, my abs spasming, I wrapped my arms around Michael’s neck to hold on through the storm. I rested my forehead against his.

As the last of the tremors passed through me, I became aware of Michael’s bruising grip on my hips and the overwhelming fullness of him inside me. At some point during my orgasm, he’d plunged all the way into me.

Oh my God.

But before that … Well, that was …

Flushing, I lifted my head to see his reaction and the firestorm of desire in his eyes made my inner muscles pulse around him.

He grunted at the feeling and then said, voice hoarse, “Do you know how fuckin’ hard it was to not come inside you right now? Fuck, you just came with me barely inside you.” His hands slid up to grasp my upper waist, and he bared his teeth as he demanded, “That ever happen before?”