Slowly she pulled away, her lips still damp. She licked them, the sight of her pink tongue making him groan, and he pulled her to him, meshing his mouth with hers. How easily she opened for him, the kiss going deep and hot and wet in an instant until he had to pull away, push her away so he wouldn’t do something crazy—like slip inside her body without any sort of protection.
“Put it on me,” he demanded again, his voice hoarse. “Get the goddamn condom on me.”
Without hesitation she slipped it on, stroking him with the movement, her gaze meeting his. When she finished, she was coming at him, climbing on top of his lap and slipping her legs around his hips. Her drenched center brushed against him, making him shudder as she ground into him. “I want to be with you like this. Remember when we used to do it this way all the time?”
Lord above, did he ever. He would grip her slender hips and hammer inside of her as she sat astride him, her little body bouncing on his dick, driving the both of them out of their minds.
He hadn’t had sex with another woman in this position since. It felt like it belonged to Willow somehow.
And look at her, treating it with the same sort of reverence as he had. Like the position was too intimate to share with anyone else.
“Ride me,” he whispered, gripping her hips and lifting her up. She slid down slowly, too damn slowly for his tastes, and he pushed her until her ass met his thighs and the both of them were groaning. “Yeah, just like that.”
She rocked against him, her hands in his hair, her breasts in his face. He kissed her, licked her nipples, nibbled on them, sucked them deep. Just like her body sucked him deep. They were wound all around each other, their labored breaths in tandem as well as their bodies.
He opened his eyes, watching her, overcome with the sensuous way she moved, her skin damp with sweat, her lips swollen from his kisses. He curved his hand around her nape and brought her down to his mouth, kissing her, devouring her, needing her to know how badly he craved her. Needed her.
“I…” Her voice drifted when he thrust particularly deep. “I’m going to come, Nick. Oh, God.”
He thrust again. And again. Deep. Deeper, captivated by the rapturous expression on her face. He could literally see her reach for it, straining toward her climax. Her head tilted back, her eyes not quite closed, her lips parted.
His name fell from her lips in a rhythmic chant, and that sent him spiraling toward his own orgasm. Increasing his pace, he whispered her name, and she met his gaze, never taking her eyes away from him as she fell under. Her body trembled, her inner walls clenching around him tightly, pulling his orgasm from him until he was lost. Completely and totally lost.
This woman blew his damn mind. He never wanted to be found again.
Unless it was with Willow.
…
She couldn’t stop shaking.
Willow lay in Nick’s arms, snuggled against his chest. His skin was smooth, hot and unyielding beneath her cheek, and she burrowed closer, his deliciously familiar scent filling her head, soothing her.
Freaking her out.
What they’d just shared had felt…monumental. Being in his arms again, having him inside her body, moving with her as if they’d never been apart… Like they’d always been together, all these years later.
It was too much. Not enough. She wanted more. She wanted to run away.
God, could she be more confused?
“I’m staying the night,” he murmured, his deep voice rumbling from his chest, vibrating against her cheek. “No way can I get my ass out of bed and drive myself home.”
“No, I suppose you can’t drive all the way to San Jose this late,” she said, sort of put out that he stated he was going to stay versus asked to.
Then again, she also found it incredibly bossy and arousing.
She was sick. Sick in the head. All twisted up over a man who was forcing her to go on dates with him so she could get what she wanted—so that the both of them could get what they wanted. She wanted her business and he supposedly wanted…her.
And then he’d leave her in the dust just like the last time they were together. Was she a glutton for punishment or what? Did she purposely seek out trouble?
That’s exactly what Nick Hamilton was. Trouble. He was playing a game with her body, mind, and heart and she would pay the price sooner rather than later.
There was no doubt in her mind.
“You’re awfully quiet.” He squeezed his arm around her shoulders, drew his fingers down her bare arm. She shivered beneath his light touch. “Tired?”
Nodding, she closed her eyes, her lips brushing against his skin. She didn’t mean to kiss him but next thing she knew, she was pressing tiny little kisses all over his chest, licking the colorful tattoo on his pec, tracing his number as her leg curved around his thigh, as she rubbed herself against him.