Rebecca's Lost Journals (Inside Out #3.2)

We roll the condom on my c**k together and fall to the bed, side by side, my hand caressing her hair from her face, my shaft pressing into the wet heat of her sex, then thrusting deep. She gasps, and the sound creates a sweet ache in my chest where there had been pain. I mold her closer, cupping her sweet little ass, but it is she who presses her lips to mine. She who licks into my mouth and drives my hunger to new places. And finally, she who pushes me to my back, leans into me, and grinds against my hips. I can feel her urgency expanding, my urgency with hers. She sits up, her br**sts high, her ni**les puckered, and I thrust into her, and it’s me moaning for more. Demanding more.

Consumed by my need for this woman, I flip her to her back, thrusting into her, and still it’s not enough. I lift her legs to my shoulders and she lifts her hips, arching into me as I pump into her, harder and faster, deeper and deeper, until she pants out, “I’m . . . oh, Mark, I . . .”

Her inner muscles grab hold of my cock, squeezing it, and I shudder with an intense, consuming release that leaves me oblivious for several moments of pure pleasure. The world spins and I have a sense of being lost and never wanting to be found.

Too soon, reality comes back to me and I ease Crystal’s legs from my shoulders, but I don’t feel the urge to move away. My elbows settle on the mattress by her face and she reaches up and strokes my cheek, her fingers tracing my mouth. I say nothing. She says nothing. I expect something, but I’m not sure what. Maybe she does, too.

My cell buzzes with a text and I roll off her, pushing to my feet and grabbing it from inside my pants. My screen tells me I’ve missed four calls—three from Kurt and one from Dean, who has resorted to a text. The car is ready, with the files inside.

“Oh no,” Crystal says from behind me, and I turn to find her scrambling off the bed. The sight of her naked body has blood racing to my cock, ready for round two.

She stops in front of me and grabs her jacket from the floor. “I have to call the pilot or he’ll leave you behind.”

I pull her to me. “I’ll get us a later flight.”

“Us?” she asks. “I need to stay here. I brought several weeks of clothes.”

“I have a plan to handle the gallery. My mother needs you at Riptide and by her side.”

And I need to get her the hell out of this city before she gets pulled into the nightmare of my life right now. Before I destroy her like I did Rebecca.

Tonight I didn’t own her, and I never will. This was, this is, the end.