Page 73 of Big Stick Energy
Rain slaps the windows as I slide onto his lap again. I expect him to kiss me right away, but he doesn’t.
He slides a hand up my chest and runs a thumb over my nipple. Like he’s inspecting me the same way he’d check out a new hockey stick or a pair of skates. But it causes a riot inside my body just the same.
“You are fucking lovely, you know that?” he murmurs. Then he lowers his mouth to kiss my shoulder. It’s a good thing he’s not expecting an answer, because I’m afraid of what my voice might do if I tried to complete a sentence right now.
Instead, I drop wet, open-mouthed kisses on the smooth skin at his neck. He smells like sunshine and the ocean. And his skin tastes like sex.
I’m usually so smart. But not tonight. I want this beautiful man to completely unmake me. Right fucking now.
Strong arms pull me closer, as if he can read my mind. He grabs my jaw and kisses me roughly. My whole body contracts with want, and my eyes start to sting.
“Take it,” he rasps into my ear. Then, without waiting, he lifts me up and positions himself at my entrance.
I ease down until I can feel the blunt head of him against my slick flesh, while he watches. “Yeah?” he says, and it’s a half question, half dare.
A flash of lightning illuminates the room, and we both pause. Our eyes meet and hold. I nod. He bites his lip and impales me on his cock, and a crack of thunder swallows my gasp. We stare at each other as I seat myself and remember how to breathe. ThenI tighten my body around his girth, and his eyes stutter closed. “Fuck.”
I’m not sure who moves first. He rolls his hips, and I use my knees for leverage.
“Mmh,” he grunts as we find our rhythm. “God.”
I can’t even speak.
His hands grip my hips, guiding me, asking for more. The pressure building inside me is almost unbearable—sweet and sharp and overwhelming. My nails dig into his shoulders. I need something to anchor me as the room spins.
Another flash of lightning, another growl of thunder. His breath comes hot against my neck as he pulls me closer, his chest flush against mine. “Darcy,” he whispers. “Honey.”
Honey.I file that away to remember later. When we’re back in the real world with its rules and expectations.
I strain against him. The sweet friction is too much and not enough.
“Look at me,” he demands, one hand sliding up to cradle my face.
And I do, though it costs me. Because the rawness of his expression guts me. Our mouths crash together. Time slips. We move together, faster now, chasing release, chasing something I can’t name. His breath hitches, and I feel him tense beneath me.
The thunder crashes again, and this time, I let myself fall.
Chapter 26
And the Ottoman
Darcy
I?’m face down on the bed. But still, the sunlight begins to invade my consciousness.
Brightsunlight. It’s so mean. Yet my body is relaxed, almost liquid with satisfaction. And consciousness comes slowly, reluctantly—as if my subconscious knows better than to wake up and face reality.
When my eyes flicker open, I’m not in my own bed. I see fine white hotel linens. And when I let my eyes travel farther, the reality of the situation crashes into me with devastating clarity.
Eric. Last night. Hovering over me in this bed.
After the ottoman.
And the shower.
A delicious shiver ripples through me as memories flood back—his hands, his mouth, the way he’d whispered my name against my skin. Exactly as I’d always craved. No,better. The satisfaction I’d felt was more potent than just sexual gratification. With each kiss, it’s like my whole soul saidfinally.
But now heknows. Hesawexactly how I really feel about him. Last night I let it all show. Every moan. Every bite mark that I left on his body. Every time I yelled his name.
