Bruiser (Seattle Sharks 7) - Page 24

“Realtor left it as a closing present. I’m not a bathrobe guy. Or a pajama guy,” I admitted. “But I’m absolutely a comfort-driven guy, so I’ll put something of mine on the guest bed so you can sleep...you know…”

“Not naked?” she offered.

“Right. That. Enjoy the bath.”

I ran the fuck out of there.

Thirty minutes later I’d laid out a set of sweats on the guest bed, made sure the temperature in her room was suitable and put a glass of water with some painkillers on her nightstand next to an extra cell phone charger I kept.

I walked back into my room as she was coming out of the bathroom.

Steam raised the humidity in the room, and I could smell her skin—all citrusy from the salts—from here.

The bathrobe dwarfed her, the bottom of it reaching her ankles. She looked nervous, biting her lip, but looking me straight in the eye. Her hair was piled on her head in a knot.

“I got you all set up,” I told her, breaking the silence.

She was naked under that robe. Naked, and wet, and I was an asshole for even thinking about that when she’d just been physically assaulted.

“I don’t see pajamas.” She looked at my bed, which brought my dick to full mast. Stop being an idiot, I lectured it in my mind.

“Right, I put them on the guest bed.”

“Do you have your phone on you?” she asked, her voice strengthening with every word.

“Uh...yeah.” I pulled it from my pocket, more than confused.

“Good, set the alarm for six thirty, please.” She walked toward me.

“Okay?” I questioned but did it. The woman had some odd requirements, but I’d get her up in the morning if she wanted. “Why?”

“Because Elliott gets up a little after seven, and I want to make sure I have time.” She kept coming, only a few feet away from me now.

“Time for what?”

“To get in the other bed.”

She tugged the belt on the robe, and rolled her shoulders, dropping the heavy fabric in a pool at her feet.

Leaving her completely, utterly, gloriously naked.

I deserved a motherfucking award for keeping my eyes on hers. For not looking at what I knew was the epitome of the female figure as she walked toward me without getting any closer.

Because I was backing away step-for-step.

“Shea?” I questioned, my tongue thick, my breath already more than a touch ragged.

“Are you running away from me?” she questioned, her eyebrows raised.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “I have no idea what’s going on, so I’m really not sure what I’m doing.” My thighs hit the mattress. Great, I’d backed myself straight to my bed. And she was naked. And I wanted her so badly I couldn’t fucking breathe.

And...I was out of thoughts.

“You said something about me screaming your name,” she said, her eyes clear and bright.

She wanted sex. With me.

“That’s the pain meds talking,” I said firmly.

“Tylenol does not make you horny.”

I almost swallowed my tongue. Almost looked down. Almost grabbed her and said fuck-it to being the gentleman I never was.

“Do you know what you’re asking?” Because my dick was pretty sure, and I’d need some major space and a cold shower if I was wrong.

She closed the distance between us and put her hand on my chest. “Do I know that I’m standing here, naked, really exposed, and getting a little embarrassed, asking you to fuck me? Yes, I do know that.”

The urge to unzip my jeans, whip out my cock and plunge inside her dominated the next few seconds of my entire thought process.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” I growled, my dick hating me for saying the words. “With what happened tonight…”

“Please take advantage of me,” she pled. “It’s not about tonight. Or maybe it is, a little. It’s also about last night, and the nights and days before that. It’s about giving into something I’ve wanted for so long that it feels like I was born wanting you.”

“Are you sure?” My muscles hurt with the effort to hold myself back. “Because I’ve always said I’ll stop if you ever ask, and I will. I swear I will, but Shea, you’ve got me wound so tight with needing you that I’m deathly afraid of hearing you say yes right now, when what you really need is just to be held. And I can do that. Just hold you. Just make you feel safe. But you’re going to have to put some. Fucking. Clothes. On.”

“Hudson,” she whispered, her fingers trailing up my forearms to my biceps. “I’m of sound mind and decent body. Would you please, if you so desire, maybe use that mouth of yours for something other than talking, and fuck. Me.”

“Yeah,” I answered, my voice thick with need. “I can do that.”

I gripped her bare ass and lifted her against me, groaning at the feel of her soft skin in my hands. Then I kissed the breath out of her, tangling our tongues, bumping our teeth, making sure she felt exactly how badly I wanted her.

A twist of my body and I had her in my bed, laid out like a fucking feast.

And I was starving.

I ripped my shirt over my head as she came up on her elbows to watch. Those gorgeous gray eyes were wide with lust, her pupils dilated, her breath hitching.

A few simple movements and my jeans and boxer-briefs were on the floor. I stood naked before her, hard and ready to take her.

I wondered momentarily if she understood I wouldn’t be letting her go.

Her gaze felt like a caress as she ran it over my body, her lips parting when she reached my cock. Her eyes widened slightly, a flash of apprehension stealing a little of the desire there.

I palmed my length and stroked once. Twice.

“Yeah, you’re small. Fucking tiny as a matter of fact,” I told her, approaching the bed. “And I’m not small.”

She fell back against the gray covers as I slid over her, pushing my knee between hers so her thighs parted just slightly.

“I’m going to stretch you, Shea. Take you so deep that you’ll feel me with every step you take tomorrow. You’re going to squeeze my cock so tight that I’m not sure I’ll survive it.” I bent to her, running my tongue along the shell of her ear. “And you’re going to fucking love it. I won’t hurt you. Not ever. And you’ll take me to the hilt.”

She swallowed. “You’re so sure.”

“Yeah, I am.” My hand slid from where I braced my weight at her side, over her hip, my fingers grazing her thigh before I slid them through her soft, slick folds. She arched her back and moaned as I let my fingers run the length of her from pussy to clit. “Because you’re already drenched for me. Already slippery and ready. And I haven’t even started on you yet.”

Her fingers tangled in my hair, gripping almost painfully, pulling me to her mouth.

I gave it to her, kissing her with abandon, letting my leash out a little, giving in to the need raging in my body to claim hers. I did it with my tongue, first in her mouth, then at her throat, her breasts.

“Fuck, these are perfect,” I told her, swirling my tongue around her nipples, then sucking on one, then the other, until she keened, squirming beneath me. “You’re so curved. So soft. You were made for this, Shea—for loving.”

I kissed my way down her torso, lingering at her belly button, then the soft hollow where her belly planed out to her hips. “I could live here,” I swore as I breathed her in, catching the scent of citrus and her.

Her legs parted wider as I descended lower, and I slid into the cradle of her thighs with my torso, letting my hands run up from behind her knees to hook behind her thighs.

“I could exist on only you.” My tongue parted her and sank into heaven. Just as sweet as before. Just as intoxicating.

“Hudson!” she cried out as I flicked her clit with my tongue, then pulled it between my lips and sucked.

A wave of her desire greeted my fingers as I ran them around the small opening of her pus

sy. Nine years, I reminded myself. I had to make this good. Had to make sure she was ready.

I sank one finger inside her, and her muscles gripped me.

“God, Shea. You’re so damn tight.”

She rocked in answer, riding my finger with a moan. “That feels so good,” she told me.

“Good, baby. You tell me if something doesn’t feel good, okay?”

She nodded, the movement jerky, and I licked her again, savoring her gasp as my finger moved in and out.

I tongued her, sucked at her, nibbled her until her muscles tensed and her breaths grew ragged. “Hudson...I...I…”

“That’s it. Come for me.”

And damn if she didn’t. Her skin flushed, and she screamed my name as I fucked her with a second finger, stretching her tight passage.

“God, yes!” she keened, her hips bucking.

“Hold on, Shea, it’s going to get intense,” I promised.

“Like. It’s. Not. Already?” she asked between pants, her fingers tight in my hair, her pussy drenching my third finger as it joined the other two.

“Fuuuuuck, Shea. I can’t wait to be inside you,” I groaned, pressing my anxious dick into the bed.

“Then don’t wait,” she snapped, her body already coiling, muscles tensing as I rubbed at her g-spot, stroking her with every movement of my fingers.

“Almost, baby. Almost,” I promised to her—to myself, fuck if I knew. I was lost in her, in being what she needed.

Tags: Samantha Whiskey Seattle Sharks Romance
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