Page 79 of Written with Regret (The Regret Duet 1)
While I rolled it down my shaft, she trapped her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes, wide and filled with surprise, made the slow trip over my hard cock before landing on my scars. The bullet through my stomach had shredded my left lower ab. Women always stared at that one. I couldn’t blame them; it was a mangled wreck. Hell, Hadley had stared at that one the first time too. But it was the one at my side that was nothing more than a circle the size of nickel that had captured her attention.
She could do a full inspection later for all I cared, but I was done waiting. I stripped her panties down her legs, throwing them off to the side. Then I took her mouth again, swallowing her moan as I climbed on top. Her legs opened, allowing my hips to fall through, her hot, wet core pressing against my straining cock.
“Caven,” she breathed, clinging to my neck as I rocked against her.
“I fucking love the way you say my name.”
Kissing her way up to my neck, she raked her teeth over my earlobe and repeated, “Caven. Caven. Caven.”
Fuck me, I should have brought more than two condoms.
Inching back, I tugged the front of her tank down, a perfect, round breast popping free.
As I swirled my tongue around her peaked nipple, her back arched off the bed, which pressed her deeper into my mouth.
“Yes, oh, God, Caven, please.”
I traced a hand down her side and pushed up on her shirt. “Take this off.”
“No,” she panted, spreading her legs wide.
It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.
Gripping the base of my cock, I guided myself inside her tight heat.
And when I say tight, I mean, fucking tight.
“Jesus, Hadley,” I groaned, deliberately stretching her inch by inch.
Peering down at her, I seated myself at the hilt. Her eyes were closed, her mouth gaping open, a full spectrum of ecstasy coloring her face.
“You are so fucking beautiful.”
Her lids fluttered open, and I’d wished like hell I’d turned the lights on because there was a soft emotion on her face that I couldn’t quite make out in the dimly lit room.
But I felt it. Somehow, someway. I had no idea what it was, but my chest got tight and the muscles in my arms and back tensed. “Hadl—”
“Shhh,” she purred, lifting her head to kiss me. “Don’t ruin this with words.” Her body wrapped around me, her arms around my neck, her legs around my hips, her core squeezing me in a long, needy pull.
I kissed the side of her throat as I began a slow ride that had lost its frenzy but consumed me with something else altogether. I worked her with rhythmic thrusts, her body rolling with mine like waves lost at sea.
She kissed me like she was drowning in us—her lips panic-stricken, touching and tasting anywhere she could reach as if she couldn’t get enough. But it wasn’t about sex. She wasn’t lost in desire, chasing down an elusive release.
She was trying to inhale me, and fuck if I didn’t love that more.
As my thrusts became more urgent, her nails bit into my flesh, her hand traveling down to the exit wound from the bullet on my side.
The second she found it, her whole body sagged beneath me as if she’d just come home. “Oh, God, Caven,” she cried, her voice cracking as she clung to me.
I needed to see her face. I had no idea what the hell was happening in her head, but she felt too damn good beneath me.
“Come on, babe,” I growled, driving in hard.
She cried out again, but there was no mistaking this one for anything other than pleasure.
A tide of raw physical need overtook me and I drove into her deeper and faster, dropping my fingers to her clit, desperate to take her over the edge with me.
She moaned while I whispered blessed curses, the licking of our flesh playing the bassline to our erotic symphony.
She broke first, the sound of my name tumbling from her lips in a drunken slur. The world crumbled around me, nothing but her and that bed existing outside of that second as she pulsed around my length, stripping the release from my body.
“Fuck,” I groaned, burying my face in her neck as I rode my high out with lazy strokes.
As my sated mind wandered down to the present, she gently scratched my back with one hand, but she never moved her other from my scar.
I could have slept there for a dozen years—inside her, on top of her, her fingertips lulling me into oblivion. That wasn’t an option though. The fact was that, while I’d had the most incredible sex, physically and bleeding into emotionally, it’d been with Hadley—the mother of my child.
But feeling her curled around me, her heart racing and her breathing labored, I didn’t regret it. Not for a second.
