Chapter 15 #2
Arran made a sound low in the back of his throat and then his mouth was on mine as he kissed me so deeply, I could taste myself.
Slow, sexy, and tender kisses that brought tears to my eyes.
They made it feel like more than what this night was supposed to be.
His kisses felt right. And I wanted more. So many more kisses from Arran Adair.
I curled my hands around his biceps to push him away. He breathed heavier, faster, searching my eyes, a frown appearing between his brows at whatever he saw there.
One of those voices in the back of my head whispered that going any further was a bad idea. Those kisses had not been casual.
And this was supposed to be casual.
One night only.
However, before I could decide what to do, Arran’s hands moved over my body.
With light strokes, he learned every inch of me—my ribs, my waist, my stomach.
Then his hands glided around to my ass, and he was kissing me again, deeper, hungrier kisses, and he drew me against his arousal.
I thought it meant he was changing the vibe between us, pulling us back into that one-night-only place.
But as I stroked my hands down his arms, his kisses grew gentler.
He nipped at my lower lip and then eased away to stare into my eyes as he glided his hands up my back to my bra strap.
With a practiced dexterity, he unhooked my bra.
I tried not to think about the other women from his past, and that soon became easy because of how he watched me.
Like I was the only woman in the world.
Arran nudged the straps down my arms, and it fell to the floor.
His gaze slowly disconnected from mine, and I shivered as his eyes grew hooded.
His hands tightened around my biceps while he feasted on the sight of my naked breasts.
My nipples pebbled under his perusal, tight, needy buds that begged for his mouth.
“Fuck me,” Arran groaned as he cupped them. “You’re so gorgeous, I can barely stand it.”
I moaned and arched into his touch. Ripples of desire undulated low in my belly as he played with my breasts, sculpting and kneading them, stroking and pinching my nipples. All the time, his eyes oscillated between my face and my breasts. I thrust into his touch, muttering my need for him.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” he asked hoarsely.
“Fantasized about having you in my arms like this? It’s fucking haunted me, Ery.
And yet no fantasy could stand up to the reality of you.
I need you.” The words had barely broken past his lips when his mouth found mine.
This kiss was rough, hard, desperate, and his groan filled me as he pinched my nipples between forefingers and thumbs.
I gasped, and his growl of satisfaction made me flush with pleasure. Feeling the fabric of his tee beneath my hands, I curled my fists into it and jerked my lips from his. “Take it off.”
Arran let go of me, stepped back, and yanked his T-shirt up and off. As he threw it behind him and then worked on his boots and jeans, I reveled in the sight of him. I hadn’t been able to ogle him the last time I’d seen him shirtless, but now I could enjoy the view.
He worked out regularly and had a gorgeous body, but it wasn’t overly muscled.
He was strong and masculine, athletic. Perfect.
His thick thighs and muscular calves caused another hard flip in my lower belly.
I moaned when he had to peel his boxer briefs over his erection, and when freed, he was so hard it strained toward his abs. He wanted me. Badly.
Every part of my body swelled toward him as I watched him pull a condom from his wallet and roll it over his erection. I licked my lips, desperate to feel the thickness of him inside me.
“Hurry.”
In answer, Arran grasped me around the waist, but instead of guiding me down to the bed, he turned and sat on the edge. Then he guided me to straddle him, his arousal hot against my stomach.
Arran touched my chin, bringing my head up to lock our gazes. My fingers curled into the back of his shoulders as I took in his expression. There was so much emotion in his eyes. Lust, need … but something more too. I wasn’t ready to contemplate what this meant.
“Arran?”
He slid his hand along my neck, tangling in my curls to grab a handful. Then he gently tugged my head back, arched my chest, and covered my right nipple with his mouth.
I gasped as sensation slammed through me, my hips automatically undulating as he sucked, laved, and nipped at me. Tension coiled between my legs, tightening and tightening as he moved between my breasts, his hot mouth, his tongue—
“Arran!” I was going to come again with only this.
Then he stopped, and I lifted my head to beg, to plead for him to keep touching me, but halted when he gripped my hips. Guiding me, he lifted me up, and I stared down at him, waiting as he took himself in hand.
Taking his cue, I lowered myself onto him, feeling the tip of him against my slick opening. Tingles cascaded down my spine and around my belly, deep between my legs.
Too long.
It had been too long.
That was what I kept telling myself. That was why I was so needy, so on the precipice of coming with just his tip in me. But I knew it was more.
It was him.
I wanted him.
Arran took hold of my hip with one hand and cupped my right breast with the other, and I gasped at the overwhelming thick sensation as I lowered onto him.
The coiling tension that had sprung so tight, so quickly, exploded with only his tip inside me.
I cried out and clung to his shoulders as my climax tore through me, my inner muscles rippling and tugging and drawing Arran in deeper. Shuddering, my hips jerking, my abs spasming, I wrapped my arms around Arran’s neck to hold on as I shook through it. I rested my forehead against his.
As the last of the tremors passed through me, I became aware of Arran’s bruising grip on my hips and the overwhelming fullness of him inside me. At some point during my orgasm, he’d plunged all the way in.
Oh, Lord.
Cheeks hot with embarrassment, I lifted my head to see his reaction, and the desire in his eyes made my inner muscles throb around him.
He grunted at the feeling. “Ery?”
Mortified, I whispered, “It’s been a long time for me.”
Arran’s chest heaved a little. “That was … fuck … It took everything in me not to fucking unload watching you come on me.” His countenance darkened.
“But you better be ready to come again because we’re not done, not by a long shot.
” Arran launched up off the bed and turned around to drop us on it.
The motion drove him so deep inside me, it took my breath away.
Arran muttered a hoarse expletive as he hovered over me and then wrapped his hands around my wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of my head.
He moved inside me with powerful thrusts, his eyes focused intensely on mine. Like he needed the eye contact. Like I needed it. And I hated to admit, but I did. I could never be in this moment with someone I didn’t feel this connected to. That was the terrifying truth.
And I wanted to feel him everywhere; I wanted to grip his ass and feel it clench and release with each stroke, but he held me down.
I’d felt claustrophobic with an ex who liked to dominate in the bedroom. But with Arran, his holding me down so I could only take what he had to give, was strangely exciting.
The tension built again with every thick drag of him in and out.
His features strained taut with lust, and with one more powerful glide in and out, I came again, shorter, sharper, but no less intense.
With just one hard tug of my climax, Arran swelled inside me.
He pressed my hands hard to the bed as he tensed between my legs and then—
“Eredine! Fuck! Eredine!” His hips jerked and shuddered against mine.
Eventually, he released my wrists and slumped over me, his face in my neck, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him, caressing his warm, damp skin.
Slowly, however, as his breathing eased and his whole body relaxed, the heaviness of his weight became too much. I couldn’t breathe. And it wasn’t because of his weight. I grew panicked as I realized …
One night wasn’t enough.