Page 97 of The Clinch
“Good. I wanted you to be.”
She lifts her head, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. There’s that smirk, the one that says she’s already three steps ahead.
“And?” she teases.
I lean in. “And I’m not done with you.”
Her hand slides up my chest. “Oh really?”
“Really.”
She hooks her fingers in my waistband and tugs. She strokes me slow, and the tension snaps through my hips before I can stop it. “Then stop talking and power up, Brooklyn.”
I almost laugh. Even now, she’s got an edge. I kiss her, slow and deep, and she makes a satisfied sound that goes straight through me. Her other hand fists in my shirt, impatient.
“Off,” she says against my mouth.
I pull it over my head. She runs her palms up my chest, testing, learning.
“You’re beautiful, Leo.”
The words land the same way they did on the beach. Sharp. Private.
“Say it again.”
Her laugh is soft. “You’re beautiful.”
I tug my shirt up and off her, tossing it aside. My hands flatten on her ribs, then slide lower.
She sits up and stops me with both hands on my chest.
She studies me like she’s taking inventory. The scar at my brow. The bruised knuckles. The rise and fall of my breath. I let her look.
“This is new for me,” I admit. “Wanting someone like this and not being able to make it simple.”
Her expression softens. “Show me. Slow. Don’t let me disappear.”
I ease her onto her back and settle between her thighs. When I cup her breast, thumb circling the sensitive peak, her breath stutters and her back arches.
She reaches for me confidently. “Again.”
I cup her face. “Yeah?”
“Please.”
Her skin glows warm in the morning light. I strip off my boxers, reach for the condom on the nightstand, and roll it on with a steadier hand than I feel.
I hold her gaze as I line us up, slow enough to make her feel every second of it. When I finally push into her, her body contracts around me and she makes a sound that wrecks me.
Her nails bite into my shoulders, trying to get closer, her walls fluttering around me.
“Holy fuck.” I don’t recognize my voice as she moves beneath me, circling, tipping her hips, chasing more.
“Leo—”
“Take what you need,” I rasp against her mouth.
She rocks her hips, chasing more. Every inch I give her, she answers. The sounds she makes ruin me. The way she clings to me says she’s not anywhere.
