I drop my head, wishing my hair was down so I could hide my awkwardness at the admission. “Not in that way.”
His finger slides out of me as gently as it slid in, and I swear he growls as he stands, crushing me to him. One arm curls under my thighs as the other goes to my neck, cradling me to him like a child. He stalks out of the Jacuzzi, the cool air hitting my body before he snatches a towel off a chair and throws it over my back, rubbing it to dry me. My head pounds with the possibilities of what he’s thinking and if I should have shared my information sooner.
He takes us to his room and doesn’t stop until he lays me on the bed.
“Don’t move,” he orders, disappearing into the bathroom.
My anxiety spikes, realizing I’m naked from the chest down. Before I can scoot under the covers, Achilles is back, a towel wrapped around his waist. He goes to one elbow, crowding to my side, his other hand framing my face tenderly. His eyes gleam a shade of amber so deep, I swear they’re glowing. I suck in a breath and decide to give it all to him before losing the courage.
“I didn’t exactly sit in waiting all these years. I’ve dated and had my share of flings, but it didn’t go anywhere. Every time I’d meet someone, I’d wonder if he’d be the person who would fill the void that was you. That didn’t happen. It may make me an anomaly, a twenty-seven-year-old virgin, but in my head, it never felt right.”
“Not even what’s-his-fuck from college?”
“I walked in on him getting a blow job from a former friend.”
Blatant relief lights on his face. “Untouched.”
“I’m not a prude. I’ve been touched—“
A throaty rumble vibrates low in his chest. His jaw gets tight and the air between us thickens. I massage the back of his neck and press up to kiss him quickly.
“I didn’t know what would happen, but I always hoped it was you.”
“We need to go slow. This doesn’t have to happen tonight. I’ll wait as long as you want.”
“I’m done waiting.”
“You saved yourself for a reason.”
“And you’re that reason.”
He studies me intensely, my stomach curling at the possibility he’s about to turn me down. Every muscle in my body tenses, and my brain goes into panic mode.
He picks up on my anxiety, his fingers sweeping affectionately across my cheek. “You are my reason for everything.”
The ragged gentleness in his tone turns my panic into a whole new emotion. He’s staring at me adoringly, his gorgeous glowing eyes piercing mine.
With everything we’ve shared, it should be obvious. But the need to tell him the depth of my feelings is overwhelming. It’s terrifying and thrilling to know I’m laying out my vulnerability. I open my mouth, then his thumb slides to my lips, pressing lightly to silence me.
“I love you.” He steals my words.
My heart threatens to shatter at hearing the endearment I’ve wished and longed for. “I love you, too.”
“I feel like I’ve waited a lifetime to tell you that.”
“You have. Took you long enough.”
His lips curl in an amused grin.
I shiver at the feel of his fingers gliding along the edge of the fabric of my top, going around my neck and tugging at the tie. “This needs to go.” He does the same with the string at the back. Leisurely, he peels the material from my chest and tosses it.
I forget to breathe as his gaze travels downward
“Flawless.”
My body lurches when his lips graze over my nipple before gently sucking it into his mouth. His hand moves to my ribcage, traces over my hipbones and between my legs. Instinctively, my knees part, giving him access.
Similar to earlier, the instant his finger slips inside, my muscles cinch tight. He works it in and out, adding another that has me moaning in pleasure. He moves to the other breast, sucking and kissing every inch of flesh.
Nothing in my past lives up to this moment. Any other experience I thought I had will forever be a memory replaced by the way my body reacts to his touch.
Desperate need seers through my bloodstream. I rock my hips to meet his movements, grinding on his fingers and palm.
“In a hurry?” He smiles against my skin, knowing exactly what he’s doing.
I want to yell in frustration at his unhurried approach. My body screams for release at the sensations of his soft stubble against my sensitive flesh, the way his mouth closes around me, tugging and playing. His fingers twisting and swirling inside, touching deep every few strokes, toying with me at what’s coming.
An idea flashes through my mind, and I yank the towel at his waist. The second my hand closes around his dick, his body shudders.
I’ve been shamelessly dreaming of this since the tease in the shower. The first sight of him naked was luscious, but actually touching him is far better. Long, thick, hard as steel, yet the skin is smooth and soft. I scrape my nails gently up and down. His cock lurches in my hand when I circle his piercing and rub around the crown and metal.
“Fuck, Harley.”
“Hmmmm,” I utter innocently, hoping he feels a fraction of my burning desire.
His face comes to mine, a chill racing over my skin at the smoldering lust in his eyes. His fingers move faster, this time testing how far they can go, and my breathing shallows. I try to play his game, stroking him at the same pace, but it’s no use. He strums his thumb along my clit, and I convulse in response.
“Come for me.” The roughness in his command is all it takes.
The orgasm washes through me as his mouth covers mine, taking my whimpers. He removes his fingers and pulls away when I grab the back of his neck, scared he’s about to stop this.
“Condom, baby,” he eases my mind.
Condom, of course.
But wait, do I want there a condom between us? I may not be experienced in sexual activity, but we love each other. This is a conversation couples have… even if it is uncomfortable. He reads my hesitation wrong and cups my jaw.
“It’s okay, we don’t have to rush.”
“No, I don’t want a condom. I’m on birth control. Are you…? I mean, when’s the last time?”
Hell, Harley, get a grip, this is Achilles. We’ve been in each other’s lives far too long, and now’s not the time to clamp up with cold feet.
“Are you clean?” The question comes out in a whisper.
“I’m clean.”
“Then just you.”
Something similar to fascination crosses his expression before he crushes my body to his, lifting to situate me in the middle of the bed.
He braces on his elbows, locking eyes with mine. I wrap my thighs around his waist, feeling his firmness twitch at the contact.
“Any time you want me to stop, you tell me.”
“I won’t want you to stop.”
His finger sifts through the hair at my temple. Holding my stare, he rocks his hips up and down until he’s at my entrance, the cool metal pushing through. Carefully and slowly, he sinks in, stopping too soon. Concern and worry show clearly on his face. I shift upward and feel a tight pinch at the penetration.
“I’m fine.” The discomfort eases and is replaced by a foreign sensation of him filling me.
He sinks in further, stretching me as my muscles constrict around the invasion. His forehead drops to mine, and I know he’s holding back. The boldness from this morning resurfaces and I pivot my hips, taking more of him, and then thrust until he’s skin to skin.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he bites out, as if in pain. “Goddamn, Harley. Don’t move or I’m gonna fucking blow.”
The timing sucks, but I can’t help but giggle at his glower. He’s on the verge of losing control, and it’s all because of me. His eyes darken and he moves, his jaw tight with each shallow thrust. His cock pulses, and the barbell scales along my walls with each stroke.
“Beautiful.” He braces up on his arms, glancing down in between us before bringing his gaze back to mine.
>
I move with him, rolling and moaning at the contact. His speed increases, pumping harder. A burst of pleasure ripples through me when he rubs against my clit. I thought it was rare to enjoy your first time and almost impossible to come, but neither is true.
Watching him drive into me over and over, his sexy tattooed chest before me with the date we met inked into his skin, the power on his face—all of it proves my assumption was a lie.
Anticipation and desire build as the friction increases. I tighten my inner muscles, trying to suck him deeper inside.
“Harley,” he grounds out in warning.
“You feel amazing.” I don’t recognize the hoarse, raspy voice that comes out of my mouth. His eyes blaze darker, that control about to tip.
“Come for me, baby. I need you there.”
I unlatch my legs and plant my feet on the bed, surging up and tilting down.
“Fucking shit.”
A sense of empowerment rises. I am responsible for his strained control. Our hips find a rhythm, meeting and moving together expertly. Need sparks low in my core, and I close my eyes, lost in what’s happening.
The pressure is exquisite, and too soon, a wave of pleasure so intense washes over me. I scream his name, my body quaking as I come apart.
“Harley, give me those eyes.” It’s a ragged plea.
My eyelids flutter open in time to see him drive twice more before slamming hard and roaring my name. His dick pours into me, jerking over and over, threatening to bring me to the brink again.
He closes in, careful not to crush me, kissing me gently as we catch our breath.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m prefect.”
“Did I—?”
I place a finger to his lips. “Seriously, Achilles, stop before you say something barbaric and ruin my high.”
“Your high?”
“No amount of self-satisfaction comes close to what is floating and zinging through my body right now. If you weren’t on top, I’d probably be levitating above the bed.”
He grins against my finger before sucking it into his mouth. In a flash, we’re up and I’m wrapped around him again.
“What are you doing?”
“Rewinding eight hours and giving you what you want.”
He walks us straight into the shower, shielding me from the cold spray and turning when it’s warmed. “We’re taking a shower?” Confusion bleeds through my question.
“You seem to have a thing for me in the shower.”
I slide down his body, grinding slowly when I come into contact with the firmness between us.
“Careful,” he bites out.
“Am I hurting you?”
“Savage torture that’s fucking perfect.” His voice is rough, sending a tremor through me. “I’m washing you, making sure you’re really okay, then I’m taking you back to bed so we can explore more of this self-satisfaction theory.”
There’s an unspoken promise in his words that sends an entirely different tremor racing through my system.
The bed dips right as a strong arm circles my waist and Ace’s hard body curls around me. Through the slits of my eyes, I see it’s dark.
“Are you okay?” I ask drowsily.
“Yes, go back to sleep.” He sounds suspiciously alert for the middle of the night.
“Sweetie, I know you’re programmed to function on little sleep and work nights, but normal people sleep when it’s dark outside.”
He chuckles softly and kisses the bare skin of my shoulder. “I’ll have to remember that.”
I’m close to dozing off again when the unmistakable aroma of cinnamon and maple fills the air. “What is that delicious smell?”
“Ford made waffles. I snagged one.”
The news doesn’t faze me until I comprehend what he said. “Why is Ford making breakfast at this ungodly hour?”
He smiles, his stubble tickling my skin. “Baby, it’s almost noon.”
My eyes fly open, and I jolt. He tightens his hold, throwing his thigh over mine. “Noon! It’s pitch black in here.”
“Blackout curtains,” he explains.
“Achilles! Why didn’t you wake me up? Half the day is gone.”
“You were sleeping hard. Figured your body needed the rest.”
I pick up immediately on the underlying meaning of his words, and my heart melts at his implication. “My body is fine,” I assure him softly.
“You were peaceful.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him how he could see me in the dark, but I already know the answer.
“How long have you been up?”
“A while.”
We lay until I’m fully awake and need to get up. “Will you turn on the light, so I don’t break my neck trying to stumble my way to the bathroom?”
He twists, taking me partly with him and switches on a light, then sits us up. “Do you want me to carry you?”
“No, caveman. I think I can make it on my own.”
He smirks, laying back and roaming his eyes over my naked body. I cover myself, then remember he’s had his hands and mouth on every inch of my skin and there’s no use in being shy.
Once I’m through with my routine in the bathroom, I inspect myself in the mirror and half expect to see someone else staring back at me. Besides a few noticeable marks across my breasts, I look exactly the same. Something in the shower catches my eye. When I realize it’s the bottoms of my bikini that were left in the hot tub, a giggle escapes. The outfit may have been sexy, but it wasn’t very durable.
Which is probably the point.
I make a mental note to buy another one for the mere pleasure of seeing Achilles’ reaction.
A loud crash of thunder sounds outside, followed by droplets of water hitting the tile block window. I go to the closet and throw on some clothes, then take my bag back to the bathroom to pack the rest of my things. Physically, there may be no difference in my appearance, but emotionally, I’m floating on cloud nine. In less than forty-eight hours, my world has taken a massive shift. It’s not about only the sex; it’s about the commitment and the way Achilles treated me afterward. His words from Friday night pop back into my mind. He cherished me. I grab my toothbrush and face wash, lost in thought.
“What are you doing?”
I swivel toward his voice and find him leaning against the door. He’s completely nude with his arms across his chest, scowling at me. My skin scorches under the heat in his glare and my stomach flips at the sight.
He’s nothing short of perfection. My knees go weak, remembering him moving inside me, and I grip the counter for support. When I bring my gaze back to his, I’m pretty sure I’m having a hot flash.
“Harley, what are you doing?” This time, the question comes out smoother.
“Right this second, I’m admiring. You should go nude all the time.”
His glare softens. “If you think that, then why the fuck are you dressed and in here packing your shit?”
“I figured since it’s raining, we aren’t going by the pool and we have to go soon.”
In true Achilles’ fashion, he stalks to me, throws the items in my hands into the sink, and lifts me off my feet. I wrap around him to make it easier and kiss along his jaw until we reach the bed. He falls against the pillows propped on his headboard, keeping me in the same position. “Arms up,” he instructs, whipping my shirt over my head. There’s no missing the flicker of appreciation when he sees my baby blue demi-cup bra. Jewls will be pissed when she finds out how much I dipped into my vacation fund to shop for this weekend, but it will be worth the wrath.
“Bra stays, for now.”
“I take it we don’t have to go soon?”
“Not until I take you home tomorrow morning.”
“Ace.” I stop his hands from roaming down my stomach until he looks at me. “You know I love the guys, but I’m not sure I’m comfortable staying here while you’re at work tonight.”
“I’m not working tonight. Made ar
rangements to work tomorrow.”
I’m not exactly up to date on the human resources handbook, but I know rookies don’t get to set their own schedules. Achilles and the guys may be hardcore badass Marines, but they are still rookies on the low end of the totem pole at the police department. “Achilles! You can’t.”
He moves fast, throwing me to my back and situating himself between my thighs. “I can and I did. Major told me this morning when he got home that Hal is sick, and I saw an opportunity to work to my advantage. It’s handled. I work tomorrow day shift. Hopefully, Hal’s back. If not, then I deal.”
“Will you get in trouble?”
“I don’t get in trouble.”
None of this makes sense, but I store it away for a later conversation. “So, we have all day?”
“Yep, that’s why we’re going back to bed.”
My stomach chooses that moment to growl, and his eyes drop to our joined hands. “Change of plans. First I feed you, and then we come back to bed.”
I want to argue that I don’t need food, but he doesn’t give me a chance, sitting us back up. His phone rings and his eyes shoot to the nightstand in irritation. He ignores it, placing me on my feet and handing me my shirt from the floor.
“Where are your clothes? Did you go to the kitchen naked?”
“I got undressed to slide back in bed with you.” He heads to his dresser and grabs some shorts lying on top.
While he’s slipping them on, I glance at his phone, and my stomach pitches at the voicemail notification from his mom. Another notification pops up, alerting him that this is the fourth missed call from her. Immediately, I think something is wrong, and turn to see him watching.
“Don’t,” he shuts me down.
I snap my mouth closed, aware of the ice in the air. His sweet-natured mood has disappeared, replaced with a blank stare. “Okay.”
He comes to me, lifting my face to his and brushing his lips across mine. “Baby, whatever she has to say can wait. I woke up today knowing you gave me the most precious gift I’ve ever received in my life. She doesn’t get to cloud that.”
“Something could be wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong.”
“How do you know?”
“Because if something was wrong, your mom would be calling.”
Speed King (Men of Action) Page 13
