“There’s no place else I want to be right now,” he said, wrapping his hands around her hips, holding her tight. “Look at you,” he said, as he thrust into her, his c**k stretching her so exquisitely that it almost felt unfair to feel this good. “On your hands and knees, all tied up on my bed. Your perfect f**king body here for me to take.”
“You can take me anyway you want,” she said, her voice more hot and bothered than it had ever been.
“I want to take you in every way possible,” he said, driving deeper into her, his c**k scraping across her swollen clit with each delirious thrust. “Watch you writhe in pleasure. Knowing I did that to you.”
She wriggled against him, showing him how she moved for him. “Like this? You like when you make me writhe like this?”
“Yeah, it makes me harder,” he said, his voice turning hoarse as he started to pump faster.
She could barely move with her hands tied to the headboard, but she didn’t need to, because he was making sure she was in heaven again. Taking her, sliding into her, gripping her hips the whole time. She rocked back into him, picking up the rhythm too, and soon they were in an achingly sinful synch.
“You’re going to come again,” he said roughly, bending over her back, his chest touching her, as he braced himself with his hands on the bed now. He covered her completely, and there was little she could do, but little she needed to do because this was all instinct, all natural, all intense pleasure that tore through her body. He gripped her tied-up wrists, holding them tight as he thrust deeper into her, taking her like he owned her.
Tonight he did. And though she hating being owned, in this moment, she relished it. She savored it, thrilling at the feel of this strong man controlling every ounce of her pleasure and every square inch of her body. She was barely aware of how loud she was, of the sounds that escaped her lips, the animal-like cries as he filled her to the hilt.
But soon, she was heading for the cliff and he was riding her there, charging headfirst into another climax. “Bite down on the pillow when I make you come again,” he said.
She muffled her screams as she raced to the other side, shattering into pure white-hot bliss.
“You make me come so f**king hard, Julia. So. Fucking. Hard,” he said, driving into her, as he joined her.
Chapter Eleven
The moon glowed overhead, bathing the balcony in a shimmery light. Julia was snuggled in one of Clay’s sweatshirts. It had the name of his alma mater across the front, and for some reason that made her like wearing it even more. Maybe because it was not only his, but it also said something about him. He was a man who knew his stuff. He was passionate about his work, dedicated, driven.
But then Dillon had known his stuff too, hadn’t he? He was a passionate photographer, until, well, until he took off. Hell, maybe he was shooting beach shots somewhere. She hadn’t a clue.
She angled her chopsticks into the carton of pad thai, dug out some noodles and took a bite. Lounging across an outdoor bench, her legs rested on his thighs. He’d covered the bench with a blanket because the wood was damp from the earlier rain. Now, the night sky was quiet, and the faint hints of an earlier storm clung to the air.
He was clad in boxer briefs and a T-shirt that showed off his sexy, sculpted arms. She found herself enjoying the view immensely, even though she’d enjoyed plenty of views of him undressed already. He was ogle-able at all times – in a dress shirt, in a T-shirt, in his birthday suit.
“Mmm. This hits the spot.”
He took a bite of the noodles too. “We worked up an appetite.”
“I’ll say,” she said, then set the carton down on the table. He reached for her legs and began rubbing her calves, gently massaging them with his strong hands.
She stretched and wiggled closer, delighting in the relaxing feel of his firm hands sending a new kind of pleasure through her. One that made her muscles sing, and her veins flood with warmth. “You are too good to me,” she murmured.
“Only way I want to be,” he said as sighed happily, a contented sound as he rubbed her legs, then moved down to her feet, cupping her ankle in one hand as he massaged the arch of her foot with his thumbs. “I figure your feet can use this with those crazy heels you wear.”
“I like my crazy heels.”
“I love your crazy heels, and I want to make sure you can keep wearing them.”
“How do you like them best?” she said, playfully.
“With your legs wrapped around my neck.”
She smiled at him, a woozy sort of contentment bathing the night. “What time is it? I feel like I lost all sense of the world around me tonight.”
He bent down to kiss her shin. “Good. That’s how it should be. And to answer your question, it’s nearly midnight.”
A brief hit of tension touched down in her body, like an alarm. Tomorrow night at this time, she’d be headed home. This weekend – perfect as it was – would be over. It would be a delicious memory, but only that. A slice of her life that was in the past. There was a part of her that wanted to stop time, and live in this escape to New York for a while, forget her debts, forget her obligations, forget Kim and her hubby and the rest of the employees at Cubic Z. Ignore the whole wide world and live in this bubble of sex and chemistry and the delicious sort of getting-to-know you that fools a person into falling. Boy, was she falling for him, headfirst into a crazy kind of like, the kind that made her want to send him sweet texts and naughty texts, that made her want to talk to him about everything and nothing, that made her want to hear all about his day. Every day.