Chapter 28

28

This kiss felt different.

It all felt different. More intense, more focused, just more.

This morning—was that only this morning?—he’d tasted her with his head between her thighs, and it had been wonderful. So hot.

But now, face to face, drinking each other in, she wouldn’t let him get away with pleasing her and denying himself. This time, it would be for them both.

So when he moved his hand down her stomach, seeking the hot, wet flesh that ached for him, she followed suit. Her hand mapped each muscle from his shoulder to his chest to his abs to the one that was hard and thick against her thigh.

Wrapping her hand around him, she marveled at his girth. Her husband was big all over and she couldn’t wait to feel him stretching and filling her. Until then, she’d drive him a little bit crazy.

“Tell me how you like it,” she whispered as he swiped a finger through her damp folds. On her breathy gasp, she tightened her grip on his cock and got a very satisfying groan in return.

“More, baby. Don’t be afraid of roughing me up a little.”

Oh God, the way his voice thrummed through her, like he was rubbing it all over her skin, was so delicious. She parted her legs, letting them fall open to give him better access, and he took it. Two fingers now, rubbing and swirling through all that wetness. With each stroke, ribbons of pleasure eddied through her.

She rubbed her nose against his and he took it for the invitation it was: another deep, tongue-tangling kiss. She bowed her back, seeking more of that lovely friction. His mouth, his fingers, that mat of chest hair against her nipples.

His cock pulsed in her hands. She stroked again, harder, just how he liked it. She wanted to know everything he liked, not just this one, tiny—or big—thing. She wanted to know her husband.

“Is this good?” She cupped his cock and moved her palm up and down, squeezing at the base then again at the head.

His lips parted. “So good.” One thick, callused finger glanced her clit and she almost exploded. Her body rose again, crashing into his.

“Dylan—oh God, yes. Yes.”

More kisses, his fingers inside her now, getting her ready. Her hand was coated with his pre-come and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. His panting sped up, as did hers, and a coil of tightness built in her core. She tensed as sensation rocked through her, that sweet flood of pressure finding an outlet.

Riding his fingers, she arched again, seeking his mouth, loving it with her own. He continued to rub, gentler now but no less inflaming. Then his hand was gone, taking over where hers had stopped, back on his cock.

He watched her carefully as he stroked, and it took a moment for her to realize what was happening.

“You don’t want to be inside me?”

He closed his eyes, halted his stroke, and opened them again.

“You got hit with a fucking puck tonight.”

“Right. And now I want to be hit with your fucking cock.”

He squinted and she shook her head, laughing softly. “Sorry, that came out weird.”

“Kind of.”

“But the sentiment is the same. Don’t treat me like a fragile doll. I can handle you, Banks.”

To prove she meant business, she pushed his hand away and took over the job of pleasing him. Her job. A wife’s duty, but one she was happy to fulfill.

“Georgia,” he gutted out. “Not sure I can be inside you and not want to roar like a rutting beast.”

He was worried about his family in the rooms beyond. Maybe about his shoulder injury, too, though he’d never admit it.

“We can be quiet. Just slip inside me and lose yourself.” When he still hesitated, she moaned, “please.”

He leaned back and yanked at the drawer, extracted a condom, tore it open. She released him long enough for him to suit up, then stroked the gorgeous length of him and guided him to her entrance.

“You sure?”

She loved that he was checking in. That he still had the brain cells to do it.

She planned to leave him with none by the end of this.

“Yes. Fuck me, Banks.”

He was big and she was tight, and as he inched his way in, she tried to relax enough to take him fully. Holding his face, she pressed her lips to his, ready to take his groans and keep them inside her.

“Jesus, Peaches, you—fuck, you feel good.”

She threw her leg over his hip and pulled him into her. Slowly he rocked, in and out, finding a rhythm that filled the hollow ache and turned everything soft and golden. And all the time, his eyes never left hers, those deep brown pools of desire.

He gripped her ass and plumped it, holding her tight and still while he moved inside her. Each thrust found new nerves, new ways to stoke the flames. She didn’t expect to come. This was for him, but the sensation was building again, and suddenly it was for them . He moaned, so she kissed him, her rutting beast.

He withdrew a couple of inches, and they instinctively looked down to where their bodies connected. The sight of him, huge, slick with her, as he plunged made her pussy contract.

“Georgia!”

Too loud, but God, she loved her name on his lips. This was what it felt like to be important to someone, a moment distilled when she was at the center of another person’s universe, and he hers.

“Shush,” she hummed against his lips.

But he was too far gone. His strokes became quicker, more fervent, and his moans increased in volume. This man wanted the world to know his pleasure, and she was so caught up in it. The throbs in her core peaked, her pleasure tipped over, and she clamped down on his cock as a loud sob escaped her.

He met her orgasm with a juddering thrust and a groan loud enough to wake the entire house.

Lying still, she luxuriated in the weight of him, the solid comfort he brought. Seeming to shake himself back to reality, he propped himself up and stared at her.

“We good?”

“We are so good,” she whispered back before a raspy laugh erupted from her mouth. She clapped a hand over it and murmured, “sorry!”

“For what?”

“I was trying to be quiet and even keep you quiet so we wouldn’t wake anyone, but damn, you’re a noisy boy.”

He chuckled. “That’s what you do to me. Don’t want to be quiet around you.” He turned serious. “How’s the head?”

“Didn’t get any.”

He grunted. “You did this morning, you greedy girl. And I meant your actual head.”

“Could be worse. I could have not just had an amazing orgasm.”

“Or two.”

That set her off laughing again. He kissed her, probably to keep her quiet, but soon it was more than a kiss. It was everything.

He stopped on a sigh. “Gotta take care of business.” Slowly he withdrew from her, as if worried he might hurt her. He headed to the bathroom, and she lay there quietly, pondering on what just happened. She wasn’t fool enough to think it meant more than a tension release or him feeling sorry for her after what happened at the game. She would enjoy it for what it was: a lovely connection with a wonderful man.

He returned and climbed into bed. For a second, she thought he would stay on his side, but then he reached for her and pulled her close.

“You need your sleep.” A tender kiss to her temple made her smile.

She’d rather stay awake, listen to his breathing, to all that life. But it turned out he was right: she did need it, and soon tiredness overtook her as she sank deeper into his embrace.