Chapter Eight
Amanda
A rhythmic beat drums through me. A vision of Tyler laughing flashes, then the cracking of ice and a falling motion, and the feeling of a thousand pins piercing my skin swirl through my mind, but this steady pulse centers me.
I don’t know where it’s coming from, but it’s everywhere.
Against my chest and my cheek, as if it’s calling to me.
I’m warm and secure. I inhale the smell of pine and something enticing to my senses, a scent I haven’t smelled in a long time—male.
It’s heady, and literally right under my nose. Spencer.
This scent is slightly different than the one in the airport.
There’s no Old Spice and expensive hair product.
This one is just him, and it might even be better.
I’ve breathed him in when we’ve slept against each other, but never this much.
There’s weight on my back and around my legs.
He has me wrapped up tightly. My mouth is dry, and I need water.
It takes all my energy just to lift my head and peel my cheek from his hard chest and focus my eyes on a sleeping Spencer.
His full lips are parted, and his features are soft, despite the dark scruff covering them.
His eyes flutter, then open when he catches me staring into them.
“You’re awake,” he says in a gruff voice as he gently touches my face.
“I am. I’m so thirsty.”
“Hang on.” He reaches over and hands me one of the water bottles filled with melted snow.
I slowly sit up and guzzle it as it coats the back of my throat and soothes my insides, unaware of the weight of the blanket draped over my bare shoulders until my thirst is quenched.
My heart skips a beat in realization. I’m completely naked.
That silken warmth and security was Spencer’s heated skin.
I instinctively fold my arms over my breasts, and our eyes lock.
His are expressing a million different emotions: concern, worry, fatigue, and something else.
“I don’t have any clothes on.” I laugh and bite my bottom lip, and his stare flickers to my mouth before meeting mine again.
He has pulled the inside of our layer of blankets over his lap, but a fraction of his bare hip is still exposed as he props back on an elbow.
His body is leaner than when we first met, but his chest is still powerful, chiseled, and shaped like the statue of a Greek god.
His eyes linger on mine before he clears his throat and shifts them away.
“I’m sorry. I needed to remove our wet clothes, and we needed skin-to-skin contact.
It was strictly a medical decision.” His voice is gruff again, but in a different way, not in a way of someone just waking.
My pulse thunders, and arousal coils in my lower abdomen.
I need him, not just in my body, but in my mind, heart, and emotions—I need him everywhere.
“Spencer,” I whisper.
His bare chest expands, and then he stills.
“I’ve never been gentle, Amanda. I’ve never wanted to be, but this is different.
” He sits up next to me and grazes his fingertips over my bottom lip, and there’s an instant ache between my legs.
“I won’t be just fulfilling a physical need… I’ve never done this before.”
“Made love?” I whisper. My heart booms against my chest wall as I watch a variety of emotions wash over his face.
“Yes, but I want to with you.” My limbs feel heavy, and my heart is full.
I release the arm that covers my breasts and reach for him, his body, and his soul, as I drag my fingers down the hard ropes of muscle of his forearm and rest my hand over his.
His dark lashes lower to my mouth and linger as my breath hitches.
He dips his head slowly and brushes his lips over mine.
Like a test, one he passes, my body instantly reacts to him as warmth swirls through me.
I grasp his hand, which is under mine, and pull it over the bare skin of my heart.
“I trust you, Spencer,” I whisper as a lump climbs up my throat, and his dark eyes flash wide.
I slowly pull the covers off his thighs, exposing him one inch at a time as his hard length rises.
I instinctively roll my hips at his size and arousal.
Our gazes collide again, and his eyes burn through me as his hand remains over my heart, but he moves his thumb down and drags it over my nipple as his mouth melts into mine.
His lips are soft as they move against my own, despite the subtle patches of roughness from the elements.
He sits up straighter, and I shift my knee over and straddle him as our kiss deepens.
His hand slides up my back between the blanket and my bare skin, breaking shivers down my spine straight to my curling toes as his tongue moves against mine.
Both of his hands are on me now, running through my hair, framing my face, tilting it to the perfect angle to deepen his kiss, and assaulting my senses from every direction with his soft, yet purposeful touches and each rhythmic drag of his tongue.
Each kiss has a purpose, a meaning, proving to me and himself that he is worthy of my love and more capable than anyone in this world to give it to me.
His hands trace down to my hips, and he digs his fingers in as his cock presses into my lower abdomen.
My arms tighten around him as I’m drunk on desire from his smell and the taste of him on my lips.
The ache between my legs has me rolling and clamping down on nothing, craving to be filled by not only his body, but his essence.
His hard, smooth tip traces precum across my stomach and burns me with desire as I match his wetness between my legs.
I fist my hand around his base and stroke up, and he groans against our desperate mouths.
Then his lips are on my neck, stopping in the areas where soft moans escape me.
I continue to stroke him up and down, swirling my thumb over his tip and thick ridge, listening to his breath escape him.
He props one hand behind him as the other closes over my breast, squeezing it with just enough pressure to soothe the ache as he moves to the other one.
I straighten up further, guiding it into his mouth.
The blanket falls from my shoulders, and cool air hits me as he sucks my nipple in at the same time, my back bowing as I cry out and stroke him faster.
“Spencer,” I breathe, drunk on him, pushing his chest backwards and laying him down. “I want you. Fuck that, I need you. Now.”
“Get on.”
His words and gruff tone filled with longing almost make me come, and I grab hold of him and gently sink down into that sweet stretch.
An electric ache coils between my legs as a deep rumble hits his chest, almost shattering me.
The pressure of him filling me, and the delicacy of his touch guiding me, bring tears to my eyes.
I gasp as I fall onto him, kissing him in a raw, unhinged way as the fire dances beside us.
He holds my face in his hands, churning his hips slowly beneath me as I ride him.
The light dragging of my breasts against his chest is almost unbearable.
I want his hands on them, his mouth. I want him roaming, touching, and kissing every square inch of me.
Each time he presses up, I roll over him as our kiss deepens.
He skims his fingers down my back until he reaches the fallen blanket, then glides it up my skin, setting it on fire with his delicate strokes, sending sensations up my spine.
As he drapes it over my shoulders, his kiss never wavers, never falters, and damn, can he kiss.
His exquisite mouth moves and tastes just as delicious as it looks.
Those skillful fingers skim down my body like feathers and claim my ass as he assaults me with fast, yet still gentle, thrusts, stealing my breath.
His kiss continues to have its drugging effect as he repeats this act over and over, driving me completely mad.
When he curls his fingers around my breast, it’s again with that perfect pressure, and I instinctively grind my hips harder and faster into him.
The sounds of bodies together and wet heat fill the air, along with our own soft moans.
He circles his thumbs around and over my nipples, and the pleasure that wracks through my body pushes my orgasm to the edge.
Nothing could ever feel as good as him. My muscles tighten, and I’m about to climax when he lifts me and flips me over, and my body screams in devastation at the loss of him—until he’s back inside.
That sweet stretch short-circuits my senses, and my walls clamp down on him as he pulls his mouth off mine and groans.
His beautiful eyes are almost fully black with dilated pupils as they fixate on mine, before those lips suck the soul from my body yet again.
But he’s gentle, so perfectly gentle, until I don’t want him to be.
“Spencer, harder.” I pant against his mouth.
His hand moves to my cheek, and he stills as he kisses me deeply, his breath ragged.
Then he honors my request as he pounds into me, driving me to my limits as my body screams in pleasure, and I tilt my hips up.
It’s real, raw, unhinged, and simply beautiful.
Our kiss only breaks for air. My fingernails dig into his back, and his moans vibrate through me.
The feel of him inside me, and the weight of him on top of me, is a fantasy I never want to end.
My hands slide to the globes of his well-developed ass and grip it, marveling in its powerful movements as it commands his thrusts.
They quicken, and it’s almost too much pleasure for my body to handle, but I can take more. I want everything he has.
“I’m going to come.” He groans against me and starts to back his hips out, but I lift myself up and lock him against me.
“Come inside me.” I’ve never wanted something so badly before.
I want his seed spilling from me. Every beautiful piece of him, I want.
In this moment, I don’t care about consequences.
We are life or death with an unknown future, but we will make it out.
I will return to Tyler, and Spencer will make it back.
In this moment, and possibly forever, this man has overtaken my body and heart, and if a piece of him stays with me forever, so be it.
Realization strikes me like lightning. “I love you.” I breathe the words as they hang around us, and he stills, but only for a moment, then he thrusts inside me deeply, our cheeks touching and tears blending.
His vulnerability and the craving I have for him push me to my limit, and I release onto his shuddering body.
But both of us are trembling. He buries his face into my neck as I hold him tightly.
We stay in this state of transparency for what seems like hours, despite just a few minutes passing.
Both open sores, healing together. He hasn’t said it back, but I’m saying it again so he knows it’s not in the heat of the moment.
“Spencer, look at me, please.” He hasn’t moved his face from my neck, nor his body from mine.
He continues to support himself on his forearms but tucks them in against me, fusing our bodies together even tighter. “Please, look at me.”
He lifts his head like it weighs a thousand pounds, and when his eyes meet mine, they say a thousand words. “If I say it back, I’ll only disappoint you.”
My heart drops. “But do you?”
His chin briefly trembles before he clenches his jaw, and he gives me a subtle nod before dropping back to the nook of my neck, and I band my arms around him tightly.