Page 158 of Spicy Ever After
“You… feel like…” But tears crowd my throat as soon as I realize what I mean. “Beck.”
I barely squeak his name, but he must be able to tell that my heart is ready to burst. He must see it in my eyes. He’s too close not to.
“Hattie.” He turns my name into an answer. Just like his is my answer.
A hot tear slips free. Beck leans down and catches it with the tip of his tongue. The movement drives his hips higher, sending a pulse of radiant warmth through me.
“Mmmm…”
“Ohhh…”
He’s barely moved since entering me, but this one shift and my body’s reaction to it promise great things to come.
The fingers of one hand are still between us, gently coaxing steady pleasure from my most sensitive spot. He reaches his other hand up to my face to swipe at another tear. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me since our bodies merged.
“You are so beautiful. So beautiful.”
Breath fills my lungs because nothing has ever felt so true. “I know, right?”
He laughs. I laugh. I cover his hand on my cheek with mine. Our fingers tangle then lock together.
I squeeze. “Can we move now?”
The intensity has eased. If it was going to hurt—really hurt—it would’ve happened by now, right?
“I hope so,” he says, proving me filterless yet again. “But you move first. Just in case.”
“H-how?”
How can his smile be so sweet and so wicked at the same time?
“However you want, honeysuckle.”
I spasm around him. Maybe it’s the look in his eyes. Or the way he calls me honeysuckle. Or the gentle pressure he’s gifting my swollen clitoris. But when the muscles deep inside me clutch around him, pleasure surges, and I suddenly know how to move.
My legs clamp around him and I lift my hips, squeezing everywhere.
Beck’s eyelids flutter, then his jaw clenches.
“Like… like that?”
Beck makes a noise in his throat that could be taken as a yes in any language. And, Jesus, this feels amazing.
I mean, damn, I really know how to move.
“Yes—” Beck grunts. “You do.”
And I’m not the only one. Above me, Beck’s body is taut heat and power.
Then he tilts his pelvis and?—
“Oh my God! You can move too!”
Pleasure mounts again—just like it did when he was going down on me—and for a moment I fear that again this won’t be enough. That the peak will stretch out of reach. That I’ll just wind tighter and tighter until I throw a spring or break this borrowed bed.
But this time, Beck is there. Beck is there. Powering above me. Surging inside me. Matching my thrusts measure for measure. And when I need something to hold onto, his cute-sexy-biteable ass is in just the right place.
“Fuck—Hattie?—”
