Page 83 of Never Been Matched
Somehow, we make it down the hall, through his doorway, and into his bedroom.
Soft bedding meets my back, and Spencer’s hard body covers the top.
“You’re still wearing all of your clothes,” I complain between breathless kisses.
“The audacity.” He jerks his shirt off, and then moves away, and the clank of his belt hitting the floor is like music. A lamp on the side table clicks on. He opens the drawer, the plastic condom wrapper crinkling. A second later, he’s back over me, deliciously unclothed and bathed in golden light, highlighting every sinew and muscle.
He helps me push my sports bra up and off, and then we’re kissing again, this time with nothing between us.
Only bare skin, naked flesh, his hardness against my soft warmth.
It’s divine. Like heaven.
I grip at his lower back, pressing against him, rocking my hips to drive him deeper, but he’s in no hurry, sinking into me one inexorable inch at a time. His frame trembles as he sinks in, arms bracing on either side of my head.
And then he’s fully inside me.
We both still, our gazes locked, sharing air.
Yes.
My hands glide up his body, dancing around the muscles playing in his back.
He pulls back slightly and thrusts back in. Again. And again.
I lift my hips, seeking more.
He shifts, altering the position of his hips, plunging into me at different angles, his eyes never leaving mine.
Until I’m gasping. “Yes. There.”
Then we move, our bodies rocking in unison, a slow and tender dance. He lifts one hand to brush against my skin, cupping my breast, drawing circles around the sensitive peaks.
I lift my legs and lock them around him. Minutes later, pleasure ripples through me, a wave that crashes into me and sucks him under, both of us groaning.
When I come back into my body, I’m on my side, my head on his chest, heartbeat drumming in my ear.
I should move. Say something. Do something. But I’m exhausted.
The last two weeks have been a nightmare of preparation, worry, hunting down Graham, anxiety about the inheritance, all mixed in with working at the theater and dealing with Audrey.
I keep my eyes shut, focusing on the sound of Spencer’s heart in my ear and his warm skin pressed against my side.
I must fall asleep, because when I open my eyes again, it’s dark. Spencer somehow turned off the lamp and got back in bed without waking me.
Did something rouse me now?
Spencer shifts, and his hard length brushes my hip.
Hmm. Maybe being disturbed in the middle of the night isn’t so bad. I reach for him, running my hand up and down his thick shaft.
He inhales sharply, stirring against me. “Vivien?” His voice is sleepy.
I brush a kiss against his shoulder. “Is this okay?”
“Fuck yes.”
Then he pulls me on top of him.
