Smolder (Wildwood 2)

“Am I hurting you?”

His question caused her eyes to snap open only to find him watching her, his expression full of concern. For her. Her heart felt like it wanted to crack, and she reached for his wrists, pulling on them. She wanted his body on top of hers, skin on skin, heart to heart. She not only wanted the physical connection but the emotional one too. He’d always tied up her emotions and made her feel too much. From anger to lust to friendship to something more, he’d always been an expert at making her feel.

Even when he didn’t realize what he was doing.

“You’re not hurting me,” she whispered, pulling on his wrists again, her hands seeking his. “Kiss me.”

Without hesitation, he leaned over her, his mouth on hers, his body pushing until he was fully seated inside of her. They moaned in unison, and she ran her hands down his rib cage until they rested on his backside, pulling him closer, somehow sending him deeper.

“Tell me if I hurt you, okay? I never want to do that.” He touched her face, his fingers gentle, his voice low as he whispered against her lips. “You mean too much to me, Dee.”

His softly spoken words sent her head—and her heart—reeling.

LANE SHOULD’VE NEVER said those words out loud, but they were the truth. He didn’t want to hurt Delilah. He was trying his best to keep his baser needs under control, but it was so damn hard. Entering her for the first time had felt like heaven. She was hot and wet and tight, wrapped perfectly around his cock. He was sorely tempted to let loose and ram her until he came, but he restrained himself.

Just barely.

“I know you’d never hurt me—” she started to say but he cut her off with his lips, afraid she might say something she’d regret. Or he’d regret. Like how much she cared for him. Or that she . . . loved him.

Not that he expected that, hell no. But his feelings for her confused him. He didn’t know what to think or how to feel, or worse, what to say. He’d never been good with words. Most of the time he said the wrong thing and pissed her off.

He didn’t want to make her mad, not now. He wanted to make this good for her. For the both of them. So he kept on kissing her as he started to move, withdrawing almost completely from her body before he pushed back in. Christ, that felt good. She felt good in his arms, her legs wrapped around him, her body anchored to his.

She was greedy in the way she touched him, her hands clutching his ass, her warm mouth pressed against his neck. He liked it, especially since he felt just as greedy. He wanted to consume her, fuck her into oblivion, rock both their worlds until they collapsed in each other’s arms, too spent to move.

That sounded good and all, but first he had to make sure she came.

“Tell me what you like,” he whispered against her cheek as he began to move in earnest. “Do you like it when I go extra deep?” He pushed as far as he could, making her moan. “Or do you like it when I go faster?” He increased his pace, their hips slapping together, though he immediately slowed down because hell, that would send him straight to orgasm in about two seconds flat.

Delilah said nothing, could only nod or shake her head as if she were too overcome to speak actual words. He almost wanted to laugh and found that strange because he’d never laughed during sex before. It was an act that he used for a single purpose—well, two purposes: to give and receive satisfaction. And once he was satisfied, he was ready to move on. Not that he’d had a lot of sex lately. Pickings were slim around Wildwood. There weren’t a lot of available single women who weren’t looking for more. In his eyes, they were all looking for more, and he didn’t want a one of them.

With the exception of Delilah. She was half the reason he didn’t want to mess around with anyone else. He was too far gone over this woman.

He focused on the very woman beneath him who was now gasping and moaning as he drove himself deep inside her. Rising above her, he reached between them, lightly touching her clit. “Speak up, Dee. Do you like it when I touch you like this?”

Another whimper escaped he

r, and she opened her eyes, nodding furiously as she stared up at him. “Yes, yes.”

Smiling, he circled her clit with his thumb as he flexed his hips, maintaining a slow, even rhythm that he hoped would get her off. She moved with him, her eyes closing, lush lips parting on a sexy moan. She made the best sounds: whispery sighs and heartfelt whimpers, shuddery moans and another murmured yes when he rubbed her clit faster, pinching it with his fingers, making her gasp. She liked that. Lane didn’t bother asking her either, just continued touching her, fucking her until she went tense beneath him, her body bowed, her muscles tight. He swore she held her breath until he whispered an encouraging, “Let go for me, Dee.”

And the woman came beautifully too. She said his name as she clung to him, her entire body shivering, her inner walls clutching around his dick and just about making his eyes cross. He was close. So damn close but he fought off the wave that wanted to consume him, focusing on Delilah’s pleasure instead. He leaned down and kissed her—gentle, sweet kisses to help bring her down—and she snuck her arms around his neck, holding him close, whispering his name again just before she smiled.

“That was so good,” she said, making him smile in return.

“You gotta tell me what you want,” he said, shifting up so he could look down at her. He smoothed the sweat-dampened hair away from her face, overwhelmed at the foreign feelings threatening to overtake him.

This girl made him want to be tender, and he’d never had a tender feeling in his entire life with the exception of his mother and sister, and they didn’t count because they were family. He protected family, no questions asked. But he also wanted to protect Delilah. Wanted to keep her safe.

And that sort of scared him.

“I did tell you.” She opened her eyes, a sheepish smile curling her lips. “Well, I sort of did.”

“Don’t be shy with me.” He kissed her, their lips clinging. “We’ve known each other too long to act that way.”

“But see, that’s the thing, Lane. We’ve known each other so long that it’s kind of weird, how we’ve ended up.” She nibbled on her lower lip, looking sexy as fuck. “I might remind you that you’re inside me right now. Just sayin’.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “It’s weird, I’ll admit it. But it’s also good. You just said that, might I remind you.” He mimicked her, wanting to keep the moment light, needing it that way. Once it slipped into serious he might say something stupid or worse . . .