The position changed the spot where his cock hit on every stroke.
“God . . .” She drew out the word on a low groan.
“Perfect.” His husky voice was edged with well-deserved male ego, and his thrusts grew longer, slower, deeper. And harder.
Delaney closed her fingers around the soft strands of his hair as he so expertly and quickly drove her higher. She shivered hard, and Ethan slowed his rhythm, slowing her climb.
“Do you know,” he rasped in her ear, “that the feel of you coming around me is heaven on earth? That I get a goddamned high watching you come apart? That there’s nothing more exciting or more satisfying than hearing you say my name when you come?”
He rocked his hips, moving inside her in a way that made her moan. Lifting one hand to her face, he turned her head toward her shoulder and met her eyes.
“When you think of me at night while you’re falling asleep,” he murmured in that sexy voice, “I want you to remember this as one of the best nights of your life.” He stroked his tongue into her mouth and circled hers. “When you see me in town,” he whispered, “I want to know you’re wet remembering everything I did to you tonight.”
One of his big, warm hands combed into her hair, and his fingers closed around the strands, pulling hard enough to make her gasp. But as the pain ebbed, it seemed to blend with and double her pleasure.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked with a rough, devilish edge. “Because you just gushed all over my cock.”
“No, no, no.” She didn’t care how desperate she sounded. “Don’t stop.” When he drew out again, she was slick, and when he thrust, dual sensations hit—pleasure when his cock hit that mystical spot inside her, and pain when his hand pulled in her hair. The effect was the most intense sensation she’d ever experienced. A wash that spread through her body and made her moan.
“Fuuuuck, that’s good.”
He pressed his forehead against her temple, growled deep in his throat, and muttered, “You are one wicked drug.”
His thrusts picked up a purposeful rhythm again, and Delaney filled with anticipation. His long, slow strokes ended with an extra crack of power but quickly ramped up to driving, balls-deep thrusts, and Delaney’s climax broke almost immediately, slamming through her in quivering bursts of ecstasy.
Only this time, Ethan didn’t ease back, didn’t pause. He continued to pound and pound and pound. Delaney covered his arms with hers and held on with an overwhelming sensation that her body was no longer her own but under temporary ownership of a pleasure slave who took his job extremely seriously.
“Mmm, you’re amazing.” He kissed her shoulder, rested his sweaty forehead against her back. His thrusts grew harder. Faster. “Fucking amazing.”
Delaney dropped her head back against his shoulder as the orgasm rose, feeling more like a spectator as she watched the climax hit. In the next instant, Ethan’s broke, creating a flurry of wild, fierce thrusts that shot Delaney into another stratosphere. Her body bucked and twisted with the force of the orgasm. The sounds that escaped her were garbled from a strangled throat and drowned by Ethan’s guttural pleasure.
Both wrung out, they held each other up until the aftershocks subsided. Then Ethan pulled slowly from her body. When Delaney simply curled into a ball on the bed, Ethan wrapped around her. Gathering her close, he pressed the side of his face to her shoulder.
And he sighed.
A completely satisfied, wow-that-was-awesome, I-don’t-want-anything-to-ruin-this-moment, I-wish-I-could-make-time-stop sigh.
She recognized the sound because she felt the same way.
Delaney closed her eyes and dropped a kiss to his forearm.
If this was what it felt like to have someone take care of her, she was going to seriously rethink her fierce need for independence.
TEN
Delaney’s head rested against the high back of the overstuffed chair in Phoebe’s sunroom as she stared blankly out the bank of windows to the big backyard. Her aunt had left the porch door open when she’d left much earlier that morning, and the sound of birdsong and rustling trees floated in on the midday breeze. The sun played chase among the swaying branches and leaves across the old, scarred wooden floorboards.
And even though Delaney had a budget to shore up, a timeline to nail down, and a final decision to make based on the outcome of those tasks, she just kept twirling a strand of hair around and around her finger. Her mind wandered and drifted and swayed along with the shadows on the floor, but Ethan always seemed to be at the center of everything. He’d been in her life only a short time, yet he touched everything that involved her, and everything that involved her touched him.
So strange.
And, God, she was so tired. She might not have slept that night with Ethan, but she had slept last night—if she didn’t count all her tossing and turning over the guilt churning inside her for dodging him over the last twenty-four hours. Either way, she still felt exhausted—mentally, emotionally, and physically.
She sighed, let her hair fall from her finger, and rubbed closed lids. But instead of pulling up the renovation’s financial requirements, her mind strayed back to the sweet way Ethan had held her as they drifted in and out of sleep. The way he’d combed his fingers through her hair. The way he’d draped his heavy thigh over hers and wrapped himself around her, brushing sweet whispers across her skin. “You’re so beautiful.” “I knew you were special.” “You amaze me.”
He was the amazing one. She still couldn’t figure out how he’d escaped the narcissism shown by the other males in the Hayes family. That thought led toward memories of the confrontations with Austin and Jack, creating a confusing tangle of emotions on top of all the other confusion in her life.
Delaney opened her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relax.