Bittersweet (The Calvettis of New York 4)

I let out a long exhale. “Now, Luke.”

“Now,” he repeats.

He bends down to rummage in the back pocket of his jeans. Then with deft ease, he opens a condom package before he sheaths himself.

I watch in wonder, knowing that at some point, I’m going to want to do that. “Next time, I’ll handle that.”

He stops mid-step. “Later today, you mean.”

“How many condoms did you bring?”

The mattress dips when he drops a knee to it. “A few, but I’m going to use my mouth to make you come more than once tonight.”

“Twice?”

“More,” he says as he crawls toward me.

He takes control, parting my legs with his before his hands take over. He runs them over my sides, touching me softly. I feel reassurance in his movements and in the way he presses a soft kiss to my mouth.

“Tell me to stop if you need that,” he whispers into the flesh of my neck.

“I won’t,” I say quickly.

That lures his head up until his eyes meet mine. I see hunger there and a flicker of need. “If you need me to stop, please tell me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Emotion darts through me at the concern in his voice. I reach up to cup his cheek in my hand. “If I need that, I’ll tell you.”

With another kiss, he reaches down to glide the wide crown of his cock over my core.

As he enters me, his gaze stays locked on mine.

“I’ll go slow,” he says in a low tone. “I’m in no rush.”

Nodding, I take his mouth in a kiss.

Each inch of him fills me more and more.

“Christ, Afton.” His voice comes out low and harsh. “You feel too good.”

Everything I want to say is buried beneath my need to feel.

“Fuck me,” I say for the first time in my life.

He plunges into me, each thrust deeper than the last. His hands move over my skin. One cups my ass, squeezing my flesh as he pumps into me. The other is on my shoulder, pinning me to the bed.

I cling to him as he fucks me hard. His breath staggered, his groans filling the room and me.

“I need to…” My words can’t catch up as I come hard and with a cry that drowns out the groan that escapes him.

He slows his rhythm, taking me with long leisurely fucks until he climaxes with his lips pressed against my neck and my name falling from him.

Chapter 33

Luke

I hold her against me because fuck, I am losing it. My heart, that is. I’ve obviously fucked women before. More than I care to admit as the gentleman that I strive to be. Through all of that, I found release and fun, but never this.

This is different.

This is my heart, and it’s not on my sleeve or however that saying goes. My heart is in Afton’s hands. In those hands that held onto my shoulders as I fucked her and gripped tightly to my ass when I came.

The hands that are now clinging to me as I hold her against me.

I’m terrified that when I look in her eyes, I won’t see what I feel reflected there.

I’ll see a woman who liked the fuck and wants more of that. A woman who only wants more of that and nothing else.

She stirs against me. “Did I drift off?”

She might have. I have no fucking clue what time it is. All I know is that dusk is settling over the city, and I’ve yet to have my first taste of her.

I tied off the condom in her bathroom, tossed cold water on my face, and then hightailed it back in here to get in bed with her.

After that, I lost track of everything.

“I can cook us something,” she offers in a soft voice. “I’m an expert at making a five-star meal with whatever is in my refrigerator.”

“I want to taste you.”

That lures her gaze up to meet mine. “Now?”

Now and then again and again.

I nod.

Her hand moves over my chest to cup my chin. “You’re perfect.”

I smile. “Says the most perfect person I’ve ever met.”

I expect a smile in return, but her face drops. “I’m not perfect, Luke.”

“You’re close to it.”

Her eyes search my face. “It makes me happy that you think so.”

I study her, wanting to save this to memory. The way her left eye is a slightly different shade of blue than the right, and the mole that sits just beneath her nose. I take a mental snapshot of the curve of her plump lips and the one lock of her hair that never is completely straight. It always curls under itself, just as it is now.

“What are you thinking?” she asks in a whisper.

“That I like you.”

Her lips part in a smile. “I like you too.”

“You’re going to like what I’m about to do.” I skim my fingers over her hip.