Chapter Thirteen
Victory
I wake up in the same position as I fell asleep, wearing Wells like a second skin.
My hips are nestled in the curve of his body, his arm draped around my middle.
Last night left me feeling euphoric, from the surprise plane flight and concert to our laughter and deep conversations and the incredible sex that followed.
I haven’t slept that soundly in years. But waking up in Wells’s arms in this incredible hotel?
This is the icing on my euphoria cake.
I close my eyes, reveling in the feel of him. He makes a sleepy sound, his warm breath coasting over my cheek as he holds me tighter. It feels so good, I snuggle deeper into him, bracing myself to be swallowed by guilt.
Minutes tick, stacking up like bombs waiting to explode, but the guilt doesn’t come. My pulse quickens as confusion sets in. I open my eyes, trying to figure out why I don’t feel guilty. Is it because I didn’t wake up in the bed Harvey and I shared or because we’re not in the city?
Maybe it’s because I really like being with Wells, and I’ve managed to block out the guilt. On the heels of that thought comes, Could this be the natural course guilt takes? Easing off when I’m not clinging to it like a lifeline?
I should untangle myself to figure that out, but no part of me wants to leave his arms. I close my eyes again, breathing deeply, telling myself it’s okay to enjoy it.
“Morning, beautiful,” Wells says in a gravelly voice, and nuzzles against my neck.
It’s as titillating as the feel of his arousal pressing against my ass.
He shifts me onto my back and moves over me.
His body is enticingly familiar, and he looks as content and happy as I feel, like there’s no place else he’d rather be, as he whispers, “There you are.”
That gets me every time, making my insides go soft. “Morning.”
“Did you sleep okay?”
“Mm-hm. Did you?”
“Better than ever. I’m glad we stayed.”
“Me too.” I wonder if admitting that will bring guilt, but it doesn’t.
“I like waking up with you, Vic.” He brushes his nose along my cheek and presses a kiss there. “I could get addicted to this.”
I don’t want to admit that if I were always guilt free, I could get addicted, too. “You’re just addicted to sex,” I tease.
“That’s not true. Sex is great, but holding you while you fall asleep and waking up with you snuggling in my arms? That’s different. It’s better .”
Just as I process that he feels it too, he dips his head to kiss me. I press my lips together, turning my cheek. “I haven’t brushed my teeth.” We stopped on the way to the hotel last night and bought toiletries.
“I don’t care.” He lowers his lips to mine in a slow, sensual kiss, flooding my entire being with desire and leaving no room for worries. “You taste so fucking sweet,” he whispers. “I want to kiss you all day.”
“Then do it.”
His eyes flame and his mouth covers mine in another smoldering kiss.
I meet every stroke of his tongue, every guttural, appreciative sound, with greedy ones of my own.
His heart hammers against mine as we rock and grind.
He pushes his hands into my hair, kissing me harder, more possessively, and then he slows us down, kissing me sweetly and seductively, then roughly and devouringly, and then sweetly again.
My head spins as I try to keep up, want and need pulsing through me like thunder.
He tears his mouth away with a wicked grin and kisses his way down to my breasts, grazing his teeth over one sensitive peak and then sucking it to the roof of his mouth, the way he knows drives me wild.
“ Wells— ” flies from my lips, and my hips shoot up, my nails digging into his shoulders.
He does it again as he shifts to the side, moving a hand between my legs, and good Lord , he teases, sucks, and taunts, playing my body like his own personal fiddle.
It doesn’t take long before I’m crying out his name, bucking and writhing, consumed with pleasure so intense, I’m sure it’ll steal my last breath.
I ride that high, soaking in every spine-tingling second. When I finally sink to the mattress, a quivering, panting mess, his mouth covers mine, and he breathes air into my lungs. We kiss for so long, our passion takes over, and we’re pawing and groping, nipping and moaning.
“Fuck,” he grits out. “You’re killing me.”
“I’m not sorry.” I laugh, earning a sexy smile.
“My evil temptress.” He gives me a quick kiss, then stretches across the mattress, reaching for his wallet on the nightstand. “Fuuck.”
I watch him through a fog of desire as his head falls between his shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
“We used the last condom. Sorry, sweet thing. I should’ve stocked up at the store last night.”
The apologetic look on his face makes me want him even more, but I can’t help teasing him. “You really are a sucky player.”
“I told you I’m not the player you think I am, but don’t worry, I won’t leave you hanging.”
He starts to kiss his way down my body, but I stop him. “I’m on birth control, and unless there’s a reason to worry, I want this.”
The well of emotions in his eyes makes my stomach flip. “There isn’t.”
“Then get over here.”
The head of his cock presses against me, but he doesn’t rush.
He laces our fingers together and gazes deeply into my eyes.
There’s something so intimate about the way he’s looking at me, I know this is one of those moments I’ll never forget.
One of those moments that changes things.
That should terrify me, but I can’t muster fear or worry or anything other than the need to be closer to him.
“Are you sure?” he asks as if he feels the power of it, too.
“ Yes ,” I whisper.
Our mouths connect in a kiss vastly different from all the others.
I wonder what kind of magic this bed has in it.
It’s not urgent, sweet, or seductive. It’s the kind of trusting kiss that slithers beneath my skin and takes root deep inside me.
As our bodies come together, the feel of him inside me is wholly and completely different, too.
The pleasure radiating from my core spreads like hot sun after a storm, until I feel us in every ounce of my body.
He breaks the kiss, gritting out, “ Jesus , Vic,” and our eyes connect with that same scorching intensity.
It’s all I can do to pull his mouth back to mine.
We thrust and rock, finding a rhythm that binds us together.
When he unlaces our fingers to slide his hands beneath my ass, lifting and angling, taking me deliciously deeper, it intensifies everything.
I cling to him, consumed with pleasure so thick and vast, it’s a world unto its own.
“God, Vic,” he says against my lips. “Feel that?”
“So good,” I pant out.
“Fucking perfect.” He quickens his efforts, holding my ass tighter.
Pleasure and pain coalesce, and an orgasm crashes over me.
I cry out, and he stays with me, thrusting so perfectly, he keeps me at the peak for what feels like an eternity.
Just as I start coming down from it, he quickens his efforts, sending us both spiraling into ecstasy, his curses and my moans filling the air.
We ride that high all the way to the clouds and back.
When we finally sink to the mattress, sated and sweaty, he buries his face in my neck, gathering me in his arms. I snuggle into him, and we lie tangled together, basking in the sunlight streaming through the open curtains as our breathing calms. But it’s our hammering hearts that refuse to ease that have me feeling like we’ve crossed into some new invisible plane.
When his eyes find mine, there are so many emotions brewing in them, I know he feels it, too, as he whispers, “What are you doing to me, Braden?”
“I don’t know, but I sure like it.” My honesty takes me by surprise, and I like that, too.
He nips at my lower lip. “Maybe we should try to figure it out in the shower.”
And just like that my body floods with desire again.