Chapter 29
Miranda
Holy shit. Did I just…? I’ve never… I didn’t even know it was possible to come like that. He barely even touched me. Frozen in place, I watch as he stands from the bed, slips his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs, and slides them down, freeing his impressive length. Holy hell.
“You alright?” he asks when his eyes return to mine.
It should be a simple question. But I have no answer. I’m still coming down from the most surprising orgasm I’ve ever experienced, and now I’m seeing for the first time why I felt so full that night. He’s huge. And even though I should be terrified, I can’t wait to feel him inside me once more.
“Yes,” I breathe. “I just—I need you.”
“You have me, sweetheart. I’m right here.”
He hovers over me, and the intensity of his gaze causes my breath to hitch. This is not the same as our first time. The first time wasn’t rushed, but we had the premise of it being our only chance. Now, there are no expectations. It’s just us. No secrets. No hiding from each other.
Without warning, he grips my panties and tears them apart. The sound of fabric ripping rivals the sound of my heavy breathing. Spreading my thighs even further, I silently beg for him. I crave the burn of finally having him fill me again.
The head of his cock nudges my entrance, and I tilt my hips to welcome him. He fills me slowly, allowing my body to accommodate him one thick inch at a time. Tears sting my eyes as pleasure threatens to overwhelm me.
“You’re doing so well,” he rasps into my ear. “Taking every last inch. Breathe, baby.”
“Hayden,” I whimper. “I’m so full.”
He sets a slow pace. I close my eyes as I get lost in the sensation of his large body over mine as he fills me completely. I don’t know how I was able to stay away for so long, when he makes me feel whole. Alive. His grip tightens on my hip, and I can tell he’s working hard to restrain himself.
“Don’t hold back. Give me all of you.”
I barely get the words out when he begins to move. Really move. I’m so fucking wet, there’s no friction. Thrusting my hips, I meet every one of his movements. Practically begging for every last inch that he gives me. It isn’t long before my body is once again teetering on the edge of release.
“That’s it, baby. I know you’re close. Let me have it. Let me feel you come all over my cock.”
His words are my undoing. Tears spill from the corners of my eyes as I fall apart around him, every muscle in my body tensing as my pussy grips his cock. I’m still pulsing around him when I feel his movements falter.
“Fuck,” he growls as he fills me with his warm release. “Fuck, sweetheart.”
Neither of us moves for several long moments. His weight above me grounds me, and just as my breathing returns to normal, he flips us to our sides before sliding out of me. I wince.
“I’ll be right back.”
He returns with a warm washcloth and says nothing as he cleans up our mess, gently swiping along my sensitive flesh.
Another first. After our first time together, I rushed back to my room in an attempt to keep some distance between us.
No man has ever taken care of me after sex.
Of course, Hayden doesn’t behave like other men.
He never has. And I’m sure he never will.
The mattress shifts as he climbs out of the bed once more, disposing of the washcloth. It shifts again when he rejoins me and pulls me close to his chest. His large, callused hands stroke my arms, and it doesn’t take long before I relax against him.
“That was…wow,” I say in a low voice, even though that isn’t nearly enough to cover the experience.
“Yeah,” he says with a chuckle.
It’s still early, but I’m perfectly content to stay wrapped in his strong arms for a while. Hell, I’d be happy to stay here forever. His breathing slows, and for a moment I wonder if he’s drifted off to sleep, until he places a gentle kiss on my shoulder.
“Want dessert?” he asks.
“I thought we just had dessert.”
His low laugh reverberates through me, and I feel it everywhere.
Releasing me from his hold, he pats me on the ass and then stands from the bed.
I roll over to look at him and can’t stop myself from gawking at his gloriously naked body.
I don’t even try to play it off; instead, I prop myself up on my elbow and openly stare.
“That was much better than any dessert I’ve ever had. But I still want ice cream. There’s a pint of coffee flavored in there with your name on it.”
The heat that had been concentrated at my core now spreads through my chest. Of course, he bought my favorite ice cream, too. It’s going to hurt when this has to end, but there’s no stopping myself from diving in headfirst anyway.
He pulls open a dresser drawer and tosses me a T-shirt before pulling on a pair of boxer briefs.
The shirt only covers to mid-thigh, but it’s just the two of us here, so I follow him to the kitchen.
He heads straight for the freezer, and I begin cleaning up the dinner dishes.
It’s the least I can do, considering he cooked and provided me with the best orgasms of my life.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know,” I say as I load items into the dishwasher.
I walk over to where he stands by the counter, and yelp in surprise when he lifts me, setting me on the counter in front of him. Gripping his shoulders, I steady myself before glancing down at the single pint of coffee ice cream and one spoon.
“Weren’t you the one who wanted the ice cream?” I ask, eyeing the single pint.
His lips curve into a smile. “Turns out, I really like coffee ice cream. And I’m sure I’ll like it even better combined with the taste of you.”
Before I can respond, he scoops up a spoonful and offers it to me. There’s something extremely erotic about being fed by this man. I part my lips and accept the offered dessert, closing my eyes as the delicious flavor spreads over my tongue.
“Mmm,” I hum.
Hayden covers my lips with his, swiping his tongue along mine. “Delicious.”
Placing his hands on my bare thighs, he spreads my legs and fills the space between them. I clamp my teeth down on my bottom lip to fight a moan. We just had sex; I shouldn’t be this desperate just from his nearness. He’s not even doing anything sexual, but I sure as hell wish he would.
Repeating the same sequence of actions, he serves me more ice cream. Each time his tongue meets mine, my body responds, making me even more needy for him.
“More?” he asks.
“Please.” My response is breathy, revealing that I’m not talking about ice cream.
He hums, and the vibration goes straight to my already throbbing core. This time, when he kisses me, he lingers longer. Spreading my thighs wider, I hold him to me as our tongues tangle together. I hear the spoon hit the counter, and then his hands are on my waist, pulling me to the edge.
“Please,” I repeat, when he slides his hands beneath my shirt and caresses my heated skin.
He slides two fingers along my slit, and I nearly dive off the counter. “You’re ready for me already.”
“We’re supposed to be having ice cream,” I say with a gasp, even as I angle myself to give him better access.
He slips his two fingers inside me, and I forget my weak objection. Dropping my hands to the counter, I lean my head back and cry out when he begins working at the sensitive place deep inside me. I’ve never felt like this. I’m already close again, and he’s only touching me with his fingers.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, the smirk evident in his voice.
“No. Please. Don’t stop,” I mewl.
Without warning, his fingers are gone, and I straighten, prepared to complain, but I’m silenced by the sight in front of me. Hayden has stripped out of his boxer briefs and is slowly stroking himself as he looks down at my pussy.
“Hold on.”
It’s the only warning he gives before he grips me tight and slams into me.
All of the air leaves my lungs as I struggle to accommodate him at this angle.
He’s both giving me too much and not enough at the same time.
I’m so full, it’s nearly painful, but I want him to move.
As if reading my mind, he starts moving at a punishing pace, and I have no choice but to do what he said.
I hold on as he slides in and out of me, grunting and cursing with each thrust.
It doesn’t take long before my body coils tight and I can feel myself climbing toward yet another release.
His tight grip on my hips is the only thing keeping me in place against his powerful movements.
I’m sure I’ll have bruises, but the thought only causes more heat to build at my center.
Our harsh breathing and sounds of pleasure fill the room, and before long, his movements become erratic.
“Fuck, Miranda. Come with me.”
And with a few more thrusts, he cries out my name as I come apart with him.
My walls pulse and squeeze around him as he fills me with his release.
We don’t move. He holds me to him as he braces himself against the counter.
I don’t speak. I can’t speak. There are no words.
I’m ruined. No matter what happens between us, there will never be another man for me.
And that thought is absolutely terrifying.