Chapter 27
“Why?” Bridget breathed.
Adrian hated how much hurt shone in her eyes when he stopped her.
Hated that even for a second she thought he did not want her.
It was the exact opposite. He wanted her so very badly that he had nearly lost his senses, and that would simply not do.
Their first time together was too important to him, and he was determined to make it everything Warren had not.
So he stopped, forced himself to breathe, and wrangled his need until he had more control.
“I want you to enjoy this,” he whispered, letting go of her hips.
“I am,” she insisted, and Adrian loved how she squirmed beneath him as if her body was trying to prove so.
“Patience, love,” he commanded, then leaned down to kiss her lips, bruised by his roughness. “Patience.”
Bridget whimpered at his softness, as if protesting it. Then he felt her body begin to relax beneath him, and a moment later, she moaned. Adrian kissed his way down her neck, her breasts, ignoring the way his cock screamed at him for stopping the rushed ecstasy from before.
He kissed further down, tracing his tongue over her navel, then down to her mons, until he could nestle between her legs and feast at his own will.
Pleasure surged through him as her back arched and a long, drawn-out moan left her lips the moment he slid his tongue over her sex.
His own moan joined hers as he found her already flooding for him, and he made no move to disguise the wet sounds of his feasting.
He drank from her freely, tonguing and swallowing until her thighs tightened around his head in the way he loved, and Bridget moaned his name.
Her climax rushed over his tongue, and he greedily drank it, reveling in every spasm he felt from her body as she sank into her release.
“See what happens when you are patient?” He could not help but tease.
Bridget let out a soft laugh, which turned into a soft gasp as he thrust two fingers into her flooded core. His body ached for its own release as he felt her inner walls clamp tightly around his digits; a prelude of what was to come.
“Please,” Bridget whimpered, tugging on the locks of his raven hair as he rhythmically worked his fingers inside of her.
“Do you think I will give you what you want so easily, Bridget? I want you begging, I want you remembering nothing but my name tonight.”
Bridget sat up as he moved to his knees, his fingers still rhythmically stroking her as they met one another’s eyes.
A beautiful flush had taken over her flesh from her cheeks all the way to her breasts; her eyes were dilated in the dim candlelight.
Her body looked ready. Felt ready. But he needed to hear it.
“Tell me what you need, my sweet wife.”
“Please, Adrian,” she said. Not in a whisper. Not in a whimper or a moan. It was a firm, conscious please that radiated from her very soul—and it was beautiful to hear.
“Wrap your arms around me,” Adrian commanded, his tone thick with need.
Bridget obeyed, slipping her arms around his neck as he removed his fingers and lowered her back down to the bed. He relished the feel of her embrace as he guided his aching cock to her hot core and lined himself up.
“Breathe with me, love,” he rasped, then surged his hips forward. Not all the way. Just enough to allow the head of his cock to fill her entrance.
Pleasure coursed through him as he noticed several things at once. The tight wetness of her core. The flutter of her long eyelashes. The hitch in her breath as her back arched and her head tipped back against the pillow.
God. He was already in heaven, and he was not even to the hilt yet.
Adrian drew his hips back, breathing through the mounting need in his pelvis, then thrust again, this time a little deeper.
“Adrian,” Bridget breathed, her fingertips tightening into his shoulder blades.
“Open your eyes, Bridget,” he rasped, drawing back once more, deliberately denying them both. “Look at me. I want you watching when I make you mine.”
Her eyes flew open at once, golden irises bright and unfocused within blown pupils.
Her brows lifted, and her lips parted as he surged forth again, his own moan pulling from his throat as he felt her tight inner muscles clench and suckle him.
He withdrew again, teeth clenched as he dragged in a steadying breath, every ounce of control narrowing to a razor’s edge.
“I need more,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Adrian… please. Give me all of it.”
That was the last thread of restraint he had left.
Adrian swore under his breath, his restraint finally snapping as he drove himself fully into her, claiming the space with a decisive thrust. Bridget cried out, her body responding instantly, drawing him in, holding him there as though she would never let go.
The sensation was so overwhelming that he pressed his forehead to hers, his breath shuddering as he held himself buried deep.
He had taken women before, but never had he felt such bliss. Such perfection in joining his body with another. He began to move, slowly at first, letting his hips roll in evenly timed thrusts as Bridget’s core relaxed, tightened, and gushed.
“Faster, please.”
Adrian drove forward with unrestrained urgency, setting a rapid, breathless rhythm that left no room for thought.
The pace was demanding, relentless in its need, but guided—each thrust sure, deep, and purposeful, as though he were intent on claiming every sound she made.
Bridget cried out beneath him, her body responding eagerly, rising to meet him as though she were desperate to keep up.
Then her hips began to move too. Rolling with his as her ankles crossed over his lower back. Each breath transformed into a moan. Each dig of her nails into his shoulder blades felt like a plea. For more.
“Adrian,” she whispered, her lashes fluttering shut as her nails dug deeper. “I’m…I’m…” she panted as she thrashed her head against the pillow, as if the sensation growing inside of her was too much to bear.
“Let it go for me,” he panted. “Let me feel your pleasure flood over me.”
He could already feel it building inside of her; that coiling tightness that strangled his cock and threatened to bring him to his own ecstasy too quickly. But he could not give in to it. Not yet. Not until he felt—
Bridget moaned his name again as she arched her back, sending his cock deeper inside of her, and Adrian saw stars as her inner muscles strangled him a second before he felt a flood of her juices gush forth.
It was everything he had waited for, and as he felt her release pulse over and over again, he quickened his thrusts, sending himself as deep into her as he possibly could, then his own moan—something similar to her name—poured from his lips as his release barreled through him.
“Oh, my God,” Bridget panted. “Oh, my God.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Adrian muttered.
He was still inside her, reveling in the thousands of delicious tremors that racked both of their bodies as they lay together in post-coital bliss. He was spent. Completely knackered. And below him, he was positive Bridget felt the same.
Adrian tried to lift his head, but only managed to turn it so he could place soft kisses along Bridget’s neck. He smiled weakly as he felt her humming pulse beneath his lips.
“Is that… is that what it is meant to feel like?” Bridget asked, still trying to catch her breath.
Finally, with more effort than he would ever admit, Adrian was able to lift his head and meet the deliciously sated look in Bridget’s eyes.
He felt as if he had reached that perfect stage of inebriation, right after the point of shedding woeful thoughts and right before the impending doom of the hangover such copious drinking would surely bring. Only this time, there was no alcohol—there was just her.
“I have never felt like this,” Adrian confessed, reaching up to caress her face. “It was… You are… extraordinary.”
Bridget’s soft smile sent a shot of affection coursing through Adrian’s body, and he dipped his head down to capture her lips in a sweet kiss.
Adrian then eased his spent self out of her. Both moaned softly as they parted. Even that subtle sensation felt too intense. Adrian rolled to his side, bringing Bridget with him, and he loved how she nuzzled her head into the crook of his arm and flung her leg over his hip.
“I can have bath water brought up,” he offered, stroking his hand down her back.
“No. Can we stay like this?” she asked, her tone adorably sleepy.
“Of course, we can,” Adrian whispered, stroking her tangled curls. “But first, tell me what you need.”
“You,” Bridget sighed, nuzzling deeper into him. “Just you.”