Chapter 8 #2
However, the thought that she might be able to drive him out of his mind as well was a heady one. Because, unlike her and her pitiful sexual history, Tank had taken many lovers to bed—probably all gorgeous and well-versed.
McKenna squeezed her legs together, her pussy reminding her that it was still there and waiting none too patiently. “I want you,” she said again. Those seemed to be the only words her hormone-drowned brain could think to say.
Tank tore open the condom wrapper. He pulled the condom free and started to roll it onto his cock, but McKenna took over quickly, finishing the task for him as he murmured praise under his breath.
From there, things moved both quickly and in slow motion.
Tank resumed his place above her as she parted her thighs, linking her ankles at the small of his back when he lowered his hips.
He gripped his dick, guiding it to her pussy. She gasped when the head of it brushed her clit. She expected him to put it inside her, so she was surprised when he let go, letting it ride high against his stomach, resting between them.
“Let me hear you gasp again,” he said as he stroked her clit, getting exactly what he asked for.
He smiled, but it wasn’t a cocky or self-satisfied one. Instead, he looked like a little boy who’d just gotten a puppy for Christmas.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, and for the first time, she was genuinely starting to believe he meant that.
Tank pushed two thick fingers into her embarrassingly wet pussy, and her eyes drifted shut, her body flashing and sparking as if she was made of electricity.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “You feel so good, Mouse. Tight and wet and perfect.”
Her hips began to rise and fall in time with his fingers, which were moving faster, deeper. When his thumb grazed her clit, she jerked as she came.
She hadn’t realized just how close she was.
Tank withdrew his fingers instantly, despite her crying out. He’d stopped too soon, leaving her pussy quivering and clenching around…nothing.
It felt wrong.
But only for a split second.
Because Tank filled the empty space again, with something much larger.
She screamed—literally screamed—when he pushed his cock inside her as she came.
McKenna wasn’t sure if he’d prolonged the orgasm or prompted a second right on the heels of the first, but her body jolted as if she’d been hit by a semi. Her back arched almost violently under the impact.
It hurt.
It was bliss.
It was blinding white lights and blue heat.
Every bone in her body melted as Tank took her, fucked her hard through whatever number orgasm that was and into the next.
She’d been right.
He was a conqueror, and she was the spoils of war.
That was her last thought before things went black.
“Mouse?”
McKenna’s eyes fluttered at the sound of Tank’s voice, and when she managed to open them and focus, she found his face close to hers.
“There you are,” he murmured.
She smiled. She felt drunk, even though she hadn’t had more than two glasses of wine at the pub because they’d spent nearly the entire time out on the dance floor.
God, she felt more than drunk.
She felt wasted. Her body heavy, her thoughts sluggish, her emotions wildly out of control.
Because all she wanted to do was giggle.
So she did.
Tank grinned, shaking his head. “You scared me there for a second,” he said, though she couldn’t understand why.
“What?”
“You passed out, Mouse. Screamed, then went limp.”
The thought of that should have sobered her. It didn’t.
Instead, she laughed harder. “Guess there’s no recovering from that,” she said in gasping breaths, as she continued laughing. “No way I’ll ever look cool now.”
Tank laughed with her, placing a sweet kiss on her forehead. “You’re wrong. Because, despite scaring the shit out of me, that was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. And I want to see it again.”
Her body trembled as she fought to get her mirth under control. “I’ve never… That was… Holy shit, Tank.”
He laughed louder, then kissed her hard. “You make me feel so fucking good, Mouse.”
His words were so sincere, she wasn’t sure how to respond. Because she didn’t think he was merely talking about her stroking his ego.
Then, she realized she knew exactly how to reply. “You make me feel good too.”
They stared at each other for a full minute before McKenna became fully aware of her surroundings again. At some point, the power had come back on; the room lit once more not just by the candles, but by the living room lamps.
And Tank was still inside her.
“Did you—” she started, stopping abruptly.
Tank chuckled, reaching down to hold on to the condom as he withdrew.
“Yeah. I came so hard I didn’t realize you’d blacked out until I landed.
That was when I freaked out a little. Mercifully, you were only out of it for a few seconds.
” He rose from the couch. “Kitchen back there?” he asked, pointing.
She nodded, letting him explore on his own. Under ordinary circumstances, she would have offered him a tour, but her bones were still mush, so she couldn’t move if she tried.
He was obviously throwing the condom away, and then she heard the faucet in the sink running.
He was only gone a minute or two, but he was still amused when he returned to find her exactly as he’d left her.
Any shyness she might have had about being naked in front of him was long gone as she lounged there, not even bothering to pull a blanket over herself.
Tank lifted her feet, resuming his spot on the couch. Reaching for her hands, he pulled her upright, though he’d had to supply most of the strength. He lifted her to his lap, and she curled into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder.
Neither of them sought to fill the quiet with words at first. McKenna didn’t have a clue what he was thinking, but as for her, she was replaying what had just happened because she was determined to commit every single second of that to memory.
“The rain stopped,” she observed after several minutes.
“Mm-hmm.”
They fell silent again, as Tank’s cheek rested against the top of her head, his steady breathing and gentle beating of his heart creating a peace inside her she’d never experienced.
McKenna’s mind rarely shut down, always thinking at a million miles an hour, but right now, it was filled with nothing. No thoughts, worries, plans. Just quiet.
She realized the same must be true for Tank, because she’d never known him to be so still.
She lifted her head. “Okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
Then it occurred to her that maybe he was giving her time to get her shit together so he could leave. She’d never done the “just sex” thing, so perhaps she was supposed to give him some signal that it was okay to leave or something.
“I suppose you want to get home now,” she said, wishing her tone sounded as easy and breezy in reality as it had in her head.
Tank frowned. “No. I’m not going home.”
She blinked. “You’re not?”
He shook his head, lifting his chin toward the coffee table. “I’ve got three more condoms in that wallet, and we’re going to blow through all of them tonight.”
The comment was so Tank, so arrogant and confident, that she couldn’t help but laugh and say, “Okay.”
McKenna sank deeper into her pillow, shocked she was still conscious. Typically, she was an early to bed, early to rise kind of girl, so she wasn’t sure where these second and third and fourth winds had come from.
A glance at the clock told her it was just after three a.m. The fact she had work in the morning should have had her in a state of panic, but instead, she simply wrapped her arm around Tank’s waist and sighed contentedly.
“I can’t believe we did this,” she mused, still amazed by everything that had happened.
After announcing they were going to blow through three more condoms, Tank had put his money where his mouth was.
He’d carried her—and those condoms—upstairs, then used the first one while taking her doggie style in her bed.
From there, they’d moved to the bathroom, taking a sexy shower together.
When they got out, Tank dried her off, then turned her away from him, bent her over the bathroom counter, pulled on the second condom, and got her all dirty again.
They’d fallen asleep after that, the third condom forgotten until half an hour ago, when McKenna was roused from a deep sleep by the feeling of Tank’s fingers sliding inside her. She’d never had someone fuck her awake, and she had to admit, she was a big fan.
“I wondered when your brain was going to kick in,” Tank murmured.
“What?” she asked, groggy from too little sleep and too much sex. No, strike that. There was no such thing as too much sex when it came to Tank. What they’d done felt like the perfect amount.
“I honestly thought you’d need a looooong conversation before we made it to bed,” he said.
McKenna snorted. “Yeah. I’m definitely that type. Usually.”
“Any regrets?” he asked.
She considered his question, then shook her head. “Not at the moment.”
“Tomorrow?”
McKenna could live to be a thousand years old and never regret what happened between them. Sure, there were a million reasons why they shouldn’t have, and she was going to have to pay the piper on all of those, but she still wouldn’t regret this.
“Technically, it is tomorrow. So no. Not then either.”
Tank smiled widely. “Good.” Then, he kissed her softly. “Good night, Mouse.”
“Good night,” she said on a yawn, sleep reclaiming her quickly.
Buzz.
Buzz.
McKenna slowly opened her eyes, blinking a few times because damn, she was tired.
The reason for her exhaustion was currently serving as her pillow, and McKenna resisted the urge to pinch herself when she felt the steady rhythm of his heart and the peaceful rise and fall of Tank’s chest beneath her.
She remained still for a moment longer, waiting for panic to kick in.
Apparently, she was more exhausted than she realized because nothing came. No self-recrimination. No desire to kick her own ass.