Chapter 14 #2
I take back control, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. She tests my grip, her eyes flashing with equal parts challenge and desire.
“Stay,” I command.
“Make me.”
I kiss her hard enough to bruise, keeping her wrists pinned while my free hand works at her jeans. The button gives, then the zipper, and I shove the denim down her hips along with her underwear—plain cotton to match the bra, practical, perfect.
“Lift up.”
She does, and I strip her bare, tossing her jeans somewhere across the room. Then I sit back on my heels and just look.
She’s gorgeous. Spread out on my bed, wrists still held above her head even though I’ve released them, her thighs parted just enough to give me a glimpse of glistening pink.
The bruises have faded. The stitches are gone.
All that’s left is smooth skin and soft curves and the woman who’s turned my entire life upside down.
“You’re staring again,” she says, but her voice is breathless.
“I’m savoring.”
“Savor later. We’re on a deadline.”
“Right.” I hook my hands under her thighs and drag her to the edge of the bed. “Better be efficient about this, then.”
I drop to my knees.
“Boone—” She props herself up on her elbows, watching me. “You don’t have to every time we—”
“I want to.” I press a kiss to her inner thigh, feeling the muscle quiver under my lips. “Need to.”
I don’t tease this time. We don’t have the luxury. I spread her open with my thumbs and lick a long stripe through her center, groaning at the first hit of her arousal on my tongue.
“Fuck—” Her head falls back, her hips lifting toward my mouth. “Yes—”
She’s so wet already, slick and swollen and ready for me. I lap at her hungrily, learning her all over again—the spots that make her gasp, the pressure that makes her moan, the rhythm that makes her thighs clamp around my head.
“More,” she demands, her hand finding my hair. “I need—Boone, please—”
I slide two fingers inside her, crooking them forward, and she shouts. Her inner walls clench around me like a vice, hot and tight and perfect.
“That’s it.” I pump my fingers in and out, matching the rhythm of my tongue on her clit. “Let me feel you. Let me hear you.”
She’s not quiet. Never has been. The sounds she makes—the moans and whimpers and breathless curses—fill the room, and I drink them down like water in a desert. I’ve been waiting so long for this. So long to have her like this, spread out and desperate and mine.
“I’m close—” Her hand tightens in my hair. “God, Boone, I’m so close—”
I seal my mouth over her clit and suck hard, curling my fingers against that spot inside her, and she shatters. Her whole body goes rigid, her back arching off the bed, a scream tearing from her throat that I’m sure the whole clubhouse can hear.
I work her through it, gentling my touch as the waves subside, pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs as she comes down.
“Holy—” She’s panting, boneless, her hand still tangled in my hair. “That was—”
“One.” I climb up her body, trailing kisses over her stomach, her ribs, her breasts. “That’s one.”
“You’re keeping count?”
“Promised to make the most of our hour.” I capture her mouth, letting her taste herself on my lips. “I take my promises seriously.”
She reaches for my jeans, shoving them down my hips along with my boxers. My cock springs free, hard and aching, and when she wraps her hand around me again I have to grit my teeth against the pleasure.
“Inside me.” Her voice is urgent, demanding. “Now. I need you inside me.”
“Condom—”
“I’m on birth control. I’m clean.” Her eyes meet mine, dark with need. “I want to feel you. All of you. Nothing between us.”
The trust in those words undoes the knot in my chest. “Josie—”
“Now, Boone. Please.”
I kick off my jeans and settle over her, notching myself at her entrance. She’s so wet, so ready, but I make myself pause. Make myself look at her.
“This changes things,” I say quietly.
“I know.”
“Once I’m inside you—”
“I know.” She cups my face in her hands, pulling me down for a kiss. “I’m yours. I’ve been yours. Now prove it.”
I push inside in one long stroke.
We both groan—her at the stretch, me at the tight, wet heat that’s gripping me like a fist. I hold myself still, buried to the hilt, giving her time to adjust. She feels incredible. Better than anything I’ve ever experienced. Like coming home to a place I didn’t know existed.
“Move.” Her legs wrap around my waist, heels digging into my ass. “Boone, move, or I swear to God—”
I move.
There’s nothing slow about it. Nothing gentle.
This is weeks of want, months of denial, years of loneliness—all of it pouring out in every thrust. The headboard slams against the wall.
The bed creaks beneath us. And Josie—beautiful, fierce, perfect Josie—meets me stroke for stroke, her nails scoring lines down my back, her voice rising with each snap of my hips.
“Harder,” she demands.
I give her harder. Hitch her leg up over my shoulder, change the angle, drive into her until the only word she can say is my name.
“Boone—God—right there—don’t stop—”
I couldn’t stop if the clubhouse burned down around us. Not when she’s clenching around me like that. Not when her face is twisted in pleasure. Not when I can feel her climbing toward another peak.
“Touch yourself.” I’m barely holding on, pressure building at the base of my spine. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”
She slides a hand between us, fingers finding her clit, and the sight of her pleasuring herself while I fuck her is almost enough to finish me. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to hold back, to wait for her.
“That’s it,” I groan. “So fucking beautiful. Come for me, Josie. Let me feel it.”
Her orgasm hits like a wave—her whole body going taut, her walls clamping down on me so hard I see stars. She screams my name, and the sound breaks what’s left of my control. I bury myself deep and follow her over, spilling inside her with a groan that tears from somewhere deep in my chest.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. We just breathe together, foreheads pressed close, our bodies still connected.
“Two,” she murmurs.
I laugh—a breathless, wrecked sound. “You’re counting now?”
“Learning from the best.” She shifts beneath me, and we both hiss at the sensation. “How much time do we have left?”
I glance at the clock. “Not nearly lone enough.”
“Enough for three?”
“Woman.” I pull out slowly, groaning at the loss, then flip her onto her stomach before she can protest. “I like the way you think.”
I pull her hips up, positioning her on her hands and knees, and she looks back at me over her shoulder with a smile that’s pure sin.
“Well?” she challenges. “Clock’s ticking.”
I thrust back inside her, and we both moan. This angle is deeper, tighter, and she drops to her elbows with a cry, her back arching like a cat.
“Fuck—you feel even better like this—”
“So do you.” I grip her hips hard enough to bruise, setting a relentless pace. “God, Josie. The way you take me—”
She’s pushing back against every thrust, meeting my rhythm, her moans muffled by the pillow. I reach around, finding her clit, and she jerks beneath me.
“Yes—right there—don’t stop—”
I work her clit in tight circles while I pound into her, chasing our mutual release. Sweat drips down my spine. My thighs are burning. But I don’t slow down. Can’t slow down. Not when she’s making those sounds. Not when I can feel her tightening around me again.
“One more,” I grit out. “Give me one more, baby.”
“I can’t—”
“You can.” I lean over her, pressing my chest to her back, my mouth at her ear. “You will. Come for me, Josie. Scream for me.”
She does.
The third orgasm rips through her like a wildfire, and she screams into the pillow—my name, maybe, or maybe just a wordless cry of pleasure. Her walls flutter around me, milking me, and I follow her with a roar, emptying myself inside her for the second time.
We collapse onto the mattress in a tangle of sweaty limbs.
“Three,” I manage, between ragged breaths.
“Three,” she agrees, laughing weakly. “You’re a man of your word.”
“Always.” I press a kiss to her shoulder, her neck, the back of her ear. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been thoroughly fucked.” She turns her head, smiling at me. “In the best possible way.”
“Good.” I check the clock and groan. “I have to go. Church.”
“I know.” She stretches languidly, looking satisfied as a cat in cream. “Go do your president thing. I’ll be here when you get back.”
“You’d better be.” I force myself out of bed, wincing at the protests from my muscles. “Because tonight, we’re doing that again. Slower.”
“Promise?”
I lean down, kissing her deep and thorough. “Promise.”
By the time I finally make it to Church, I’m ten minutes late and Josie’s walking funny. Hawk takes one look at my face and wisely doesn’t comment.
Tonight, I’ll take my time. But right now? Right now was just the appetizer.