Hold Me Close: A Cinnamon Roll Box Set

by Talia Hibbert

  Her hips jerked against him, pushing his finger deeper as she said, “This is definitely okay. Keep going.”

  That long, thick finger thrust in all the way, until she could feel his knuckles against her labia. Jesus Christ, it felt good, simultaneously too much and not enough.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said suddenly. “You’d tell me, if I hurt you?”

  “Yes. Now, I’m kind of missing your mouth, so if you don’t mind…”

  He grinned wickedly. “Oh, no. I don’t mind at all.” Then he buried his head between her thighs again, his tongue massaging her clit more firmly than before. Perfectly. So perfectly that she found herself gasping out his name, writhing on the bed with no restraint whatsoever. His finger moved slowly inside her, back and forth, until she softened enough for him to thrust with ease.

  He added another finger, and Ruth shuddered at the delicious stretch, and then she rose up on her elbows to look at him and holy shit was he beautiful. So, so beautiful, his handsome face buried between her legs, his eyes closed as if in ecstasy. He stroked her expertly, worked her clit tirelessly, and the twin rhythms had her heart pounding in her chest.

  She slid a hand into his hair, pushed him against her as if he could get any closer. “Fuck,” she gasped out, the word stretching on a breath. “Oh my God. Please don’t stop, you can’t stop, please—” because she was suddenly, unreasonably terrified that he might. That he might take away the perfection and the promise of starlight just when she was almost there, and nothing would be more unbearable.

  He didn’t. He kept going, kept up the pace and the pressure until the razor-sharp streaks of pleasure arcing through her reached their peak. Ruth managed to groan out a series of babbled, senseless words—“Oh, my, fuck yes, you’re so, Jesus, Evan, you perfect fucking…”—before her mind gave up completely. She gave a hoarse cry as she twisted up off the bed, but Evan didn’t stop then, either. He wrapped an arm around her hips and kept licking, kept stroking, his movements growing slower and gentler as her moans eased.

  When she relaxed against the bed, limbs liquid, chest heaving, he finally stopped.

  The fact that he’d made her come almost as easily as she did herself should’ve shocked Ruth. Instead, she felt an odd sort of satisfaction; as if he’d met an expectation she’d secretly already held.

  He moved up the bed to lay beside her, his warm body pressed against hers. She rolled onto her side and wrapped her arms around him.

  She’d been sated five seconds ago. Now she could feel his hardness pressing into her belly, smell her own arousal on his beard, see the fire burning in his eyes.

  She kissed him without a word, sinking into his touch the way she would a warm bath. His hands roamed over her body, sliding down the small of her back, over the curve of her arse. He delved between her legs from behind, stroking her slowly, gently. The way he touched her, as if it were a habit, only made Ruth hungrier.

  She reached between their bodies and found his stiff cock, squeezing the firm girth. A flare of pleasure shot through her as Evan sighed against her lips.

  Then she slid his erection between her thighs, and he grunted, “Fuck.”

  27

  When Evan felt Ruth orgasm around his fingers, tasted her release on his tongue, he thought he’d never come so close to dying of pleasure.

  Of course, he should’ve realised she’d drive him so much closer before the night was out.

  He sucked in a breath as she closed those lush thighs around his cock. So different, the feel of all that flesh, to the wet heat of her cunt. Still sweet enough to make his balls tighten, to call up the ghost of a familiar tingle at the base of his spine.

  Evan pushed the sensation away. One day, he’d like to come all over her soft, brown skin. Tonight wasn’t the time.

  But his hips, pumping of their own accord, didn’t seem to agree.

  Ruth kissed him as if she’d never stop. He hoped she wouldn’t. If they stayed like this forever, or until their air ran out, that would be fine. More than fine. That would be heaven.

  He held her close as he thrust against her, silken skin and suffocating pressure conspiring against him until he was ruled more by instinct than sense. His hands grabbed at her roughly, greedily, and his tongue thrust wildly against hers—and Ruth moaned and writhed for him as if she were just as mindless.

  She pulled away from his mouth—bad—and gasped out, breathless, “You should fuck me now.” Good. Very, very good.

  Evan tore himself away from her because he knew that easing back slowly wouldn’t work. He’d never leave the warmth of her skin, the abundant curves of her body. And if he never left, he couldn’t grab a condom from his drawer, and then he couldn’t finally thrust into her the way he’d wanted to for weeks.

  So he took the condom, tore it open, rolled it on, and was lying over her within seconds.

  She blinked up at him. Since when had she been on her back? Perhaps he’d put her there.

  “That was quick,” she said. Something about the tilt of her lips told him, clearly as if she’d actually laughed, that she was mocking him. He liked Ruth mocking him.

  “I must be desperate,” he said.

  “Yes, you mu—ohh, fuck,” she broke off, squeezing her eyes shut as he slid his cock over her folds.

  “What was that?” he prompted. His hips moved in a tight circle, nudging at her clit with each thrust.

  “Fuck off,” she groaned, arching against him.

  “You want me to stop?”

  “I want you to fuck me,” Ruth gritted out. Not icy and controlled, but hoarse and edgy and unravelling. He wanted to make her sound like that every fucking day, for the rest of… for the rest of forever. For as long as was humanly possible.

  Evan hooked one of Ruth’s legs over his shoulder, opening her up beneath him. So fucking close. Soon they’d be closer.

  But the sharp, biting arousal tightening his core was accompanied by softer sensations. By the warmth in his chest that only she elicited.

  He touched his forehead to hers for a moment, felt her heavy breaths against his cheek. “Ruth,” he murmured. “You’re so… I’ve never felt like this before.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. “Like what?” she whispered back.

  He didn’t know. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t find the words. But he settled for, “Perfect. I feel like everything is perfect.”

  And she, always a surprise, flashed him a wicked little smile and shifted her hips. “I wonder how you’ll feel when you actually—”

  “Shut up,” he snorted.

  “Isn’t that my line?”

  He kissed her. Not just because he wanted to distract her—because he had a suspicion that she might need it in a second—but because he simply couldn’t not.

  Here was Ruth, and she was his, and therefore, he kissed her.

  She wound her arms around his neck and sighed. Evan chose that moment to push the aching head of his cock into her, just a little. Just an inch. Her pussy clung to him immediately, the pressure tighter than even her mouth had been.

  And her mouth had been fucking good.

  He moved his kisses to her cheek, her jaw, and held still. “You okay?”

  “Mmhm.” The sound was strained, a body that had been fluid around him suddenly rigid.

  He looked down at her. “Don’t do that. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”

  She exhaled, closing her eyes. “Right. Okay. Just… stay still for a second. Kiss me.”

  Evan obliged. He was aware of the fact that, because of his size—or specifically, girth—he had to be careful with people, the first time. He didn’t care if he had to wait a minute, or five, or ten, for someone to get used to him.

  He did care about the fact that Ruth seemed suddenly hesitant beneath him, her kisses soft and uncertain, her body stiff.

  “Talk to me,” Evan whispered against her lips. “We talk now. Remember?”

  “Right.” He felt her smile. That was
a good sign. “Sorry. I just hate being awkward.”

  “What’s awkward?” He reached between their bodies and brushed a finger over her clit. When she clenched around him, he thought he might come on the spot.

  She gave a soft moan before answering, her voice slightly breathless, “The fact that you had to stop. Because I—”

  “I haven’t stopped.” He caught her earlobe between his teeth, sucked the soft curve. “I’m right here.”

  “I think I’m nervous,” she blurted out.

  “That’s okay. I’m definitely nervous.”

  “What are you nervous about?” Her brows were raised, her lips tilted at the corners. And he felt her relax, just a little bit.

  “This is very high-stakes for me,” he said gravely. “Since you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, and everything.”

  She laughed. “If I were in a demonstrative mood, I might say that you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever met.”

  “I already knew that.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You thought you knew that.”

  “Nah, I knew. You stare at my chest a lot.”

  Ruth gave a gasp of outrage, and Evan muffled it with a kiss, laughing and open-mouthed and clumsy and perfect. She sank her hands into his hair and tugged, and he thought nothing could feel so divine as Ruth pulling him closer, needing him. Then she wrapped a leg around his waist, and he felt her open for him, just a little, and sank deeper.

  She gasped against his mouth. It wasn’t a pained gasp, but achingly sweet and hungry. Evan reached between them again and found the swollen nub of her clit, massaging with his thumb. And then he waited as she moaned, as she whimpered, as she tilted her hips and pulled him deeper with each languid movement.

  Evan maintained his control, reined himself in, until he was completely buried inside her. Silken heat surrounded him, caressing his cock, ratcheting up his lust, but still he kept his head. He kissed her, hard, as he began to move—slowly, so slowly. His tongue slid against hers with all the frenzy that his hips could not display. He wouldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t hurt her.

  Then she sank her nails into his shoulder and moaned, “Harder.”

  Evan swallowed roughly. “Are you sure—?”

  “Fuck, yes, I’m sure.” She arched against him, pushing her breasts into his chest. “Please. I need…” She trailed off with a gasp as he twisted his hips, driving into her with more force. “That. I need that. Fuck.”

  He grasped her arse, tilting her hips up, holding her in place. And then he let his control slip.

  “Oh my God,” she hissed, thrusting up to meet him, throwing her head back. Evan grunted as he pounded into her, every movement punctuated by the satisfying smack of flesh against flesh. Sweat dripped down his brow as he gritted his teeth, because Jesus, fuck, he wanted to come, but the look of ecstasy on Ruth’s face wasn’t something he could bear to take away.

  “Evan,” she chanted, her voice shaking as he slammed into her. “Evan. Fuck, don’t stop.”

  “You feel so fucking good,” he panted. “I can’t stop. I want you forever.” He wasn’t making any fucking sense and he knew it. He could barely understand his own ragged speech, and he didn’t care.

  Ruth didn’t care either, because she leaned up and caught his mouth with hers, teeth grazing his lips, tongue thrusting against his. And then she came, so suddenly and so explosively that Evan couldn’t have held back if he’d tried. She convulsed beneath him, her cries breathless and throaty, her cunt tightening around his cock, and his vision blurred.

  “Ruth.” He shuddered over her, burying his face against her throat as he came, the sudden release so intense it was almost painful.

  They sank back against the mattress as one, and for a moment he simply lay over her and concentrated on breathing. Then he remembered that he was really fucking heavy.

  Evan rolled onto his back and dragged Ruth with him. She only came part way, slinging her leg over his body with a drowsy sigh. He stared hazily up at the ceiling as her fingers slid over his chest, toying with the hairs there.

  Then, after a moment, he said, “I love you.”

  There was a pause. A pause in which he thought, Why the fuck did I just say that? And then realised that it was because he simply couldn’t… not.

  “Well,” she said, before the silence stretched too far. “I had no idea I was that good in bed.”

  He laughed. “Maybe you’re not. Maybe I just love you anyway.”

  She propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at him. “We haven’t talked yet.” But there was no wariness in her eyes, or awful blankness. She just looked thoughtful.

  “No,” he said. “We haven’t.”

  “Maybe… maybe we should talk now.”

  “If we’re talking, I should probably deal with the condom.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Yes. Probably.”

  He kissed her, light and fast, before disentangling their legs and getting up. As he headed to the bathroom, Evan looked over his shoulder.

  There was Ruth Kabbah, lying naked in his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

  Smiling to herself.

  28

  “I didn’t smash up Daniel’s car,” Ruth said.

  Evan was back where he belonged—which was, she now realised, under her. On top of her would also do—or behind her, for that matter—but right now he was under her. She laid her head on his chest and felt the steady beat of his heart. It matched the stroke of his hand over her back.

  How she loved being naked with him.

  I love you.

  “So that’s just another rumour,” he said.

  “I don’t know. It’s not one I’ve ever heard before,” she replied. Hedging. Hesitating. Not because she didn’t trust him or because she was scared, but because this part of the story was the worst. The absolute worst. She licked her lips and said, “Who told you? What did they say?”

  “I was with Daniel, at the newsagents, and Mrs. Needham was showing me a car. She said it looked like one Daniel had. She said…” He paused as if remembering exactly. “She said, That Kabbah girl smashed it to pieces. And then Zach said something too, just a throwaway comment about how he didn’t judge because his brother has a record. So I just…”

  Ruth nodded, his chest hair tickling her cheek. Then she said, “Hannah did it.”

  She felt the surge of shock through him. Felt him lift his head to look down at her. “Seriously? Hannah?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Ruth sighed. “Because I told her some things. Things that upset her. I was upset. So she calmed me down and put me to bed, and then she apparently went to Daniel’s house and smashed the shit out of his car.”

  Evan released a long, quiet exhale. “Fuck. So Hannah…”

  “Hannah was arrested.” Ruth could hear her own voice, flat and hollow. “She was charged and convicted with criminal damage and possession of an offensive weapon—”

  “An offensive weapon?”

  “She used a cricket bat,” Ruth said dully. “It was her boyfriend’s. She got a suspended sentence, community service, and a fine. She ruined her life because of me.”

  “Wait—what?” Evan’s body shifted beneath her as he raised himself up on his elbows.

  She could feel him staring at her, but she couldn’t look. It was ridiculous, pathetic, but tears were pricking at the corners of her eyes.

  “First of all,” he said, “she doesn’t seem like her life was ruined.”

  “Well, it was,” Ruth snapped. “She’s a nursery nurse. I mean, she was a nursery nurse. That’s all she ever wanted to do—she got a fucking foundation degree and everything—and now she’s a waitress. She can’t work with kids. We used to volunteer at the library together, we did it for years, and now she can’t even do that.”

  Ruth remembered the letter that had come from the council, informing Hannah of her unsuitability for the position she’d been filling since they were bloody teenagers. And Hannah had tried
to pretend she wasn’t upset, but she’d been devastated.

  So Ruth had quit, too. What else could she do?

  Evan sighed. It was a sad, short sigh that seemed entirely appropriate to Ruth—but then he ruined it by talking unnecessarily. “Okay. I get that. But, love, I don’t think you should blame yourself. I’m not saying I don’t understand,” he added hurriedly when she sucked in a breath. Ruth felt him lay back slowly, felt the soothing stroke of his hand on her hair, and calmed. “I bet Hannah’s told you this,” he said. “I bet she’s told you a thousand times that it’s not your fault—”

  “And that she’s a grown woman who makes her own decisions and blah, blah, blah,” Ruth finished. “Whatever. I made bad choices, and it came back to bite me. I brought my shit to her doorstep and—she’s my sister. She’s my sister. Of course she lost it. I was sleeping at hers while she went out and destroyed Daniel’s pride and joy in front of half the town.”

  “Half the town?”

  “It was his engagement party.”

  Evan stiffened. Then he said, “I think you should tell me about Daniel.”

  So she did. She told him everything she’d told Mr. Burne.

  But she told him other things, too. The little things Daniel did, the cruelties she’d barely noticed because they’d been wrapped in silk or laced with diamonds. The way he’d spike every compliment with a put-down, the way he made sure she knew that he wanted her—more than anything on earth, too much to leave her alone even when she asked—but no-one else ever would.

  “He’d say, you know… ‘Ruth, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, to me. It’s a shame other people won’t see it.’ Or he’d get rid of my pyjamas and buy me a wardrobe full of Gucci.”

  Evan tensed at that part, which was kind of funny. Even funnier was the outrage in his voice when he said, “That fucker got rid of your pyjamas?”

  “Oh, he hated my pyjamas. I was always buying new ones and he was always finding ways to throw them away. He hated my comics, too. I had to keep them at Hannah’s.”

  She could practically hear Evan’s teeth grinding. “And you were together for how long?”