Page 65 of Sparrow

But my body is too busy figuring out how to have her to listen to that voice. I lean over her, thread my fingers through her glorious hair, and pull her face to mine, and when I claim her mouth she’s just as sweet and soft as I expected. Her lips are pliant with sleep, her gasp quiet and lost into my mouth, but then I feel her come alive underneath me.

I feel her realize what’s going on.

And instead of pulling away, instead of pushing me off and running for her room, she hums as if she’s been waiting for this exact thing, and opens up to me. Her mouth is hot and wet when I slide my tongue in and I gasp at the taste of her. I kiss her as if she’s the most precious thing in the world, as if she might break under me, and her hazy, sleepy kisses fill me with an emotion I can’t name.

Maybe because I’ve never felt it before.

I slip one hand down her body, tracing my fingers over her breasts and belly and then down to the hem of the jean shorts she’s wearing. They’re short enough that they cover almost nothing, and when I push her legs open, the seam of the jeans barely covers the bare material of her panties.

She’s open and waiting for me, and one brush of my fingers tells me that she’s hot and wet and ready.

She gasps at the bare contact and arches up off the couch, her mouth open in a moan.

“Orion,” she mutters.

“Shhh,” I whisper. I lean down and seal my mouth over hers again, swallowing her gasps as I work her panties to the side and slip my fingers across her pussy. She’s soaked and needy, her legs falling further open invitation, and I’m starting to have trouble paying attention. My blood is so hot it’s burning me, my cock hard enough that it’s aching, and Arden’s gasps are getting increasingly loud.

I can’t stop kissing her. Can’t stop swallowing those moans and gasps.

Because the last thing I want is anyone hearing us.

This girl’s hours from 2 to sunrise belong to me, and I won’t have anyone interrupting us.

I slide my fingers through the damp moisture of her pussy, rubbing her from opening to her clit, and there I press a gentle thumb against her nub. I’m not ready for her to throw her head back and gasp my name, and bring my hand up over her mouth before she can say anything else.

“Quiet, baby,” I whisper in her ear. “I’m not going to be done with until the sun rises, and I don’t want anyone waking up.”

She jerks her head in a nod and I uncover her mouth, then kiss her again as I push a finger up inside her. She’s so hot and tight that I nearly break my own rule, the need to shout for her is so strong, and I quickly revise my plans.

I’m not going to be able to take all night with her.

I want her too much to wait.

I move my finger in and out of her once, twice, three times, before I add a second finger to stretch her, and within one more pump she’s riding my finger, spreading her legs and moving to take me deeper.

And fucking hell, I need to be inside this girl. I need her surrounding me and taking me home. Moaning my name in my ear as I show her how much my body needs her.

I pull my fingers out of her and make quick work of her shorts, jerking them down her legs and throwing them to the side. I lay back, unbutton my own jeans, and strip the off my body before I climb between her lets and position myself at her entrance. Her heat rises up and caresses the head of my cock and I nearly sob at the feel of it.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. I kiss her deeply, reveling in the feel of her underneath me, and then lean toward her ear. “I want to strip you and worship your body until the sun comes up. Make you beg for me. Beg for you myself. But I can’t wait.”

“Then don’t,” she responds.

She puts her hands on my ass and pulls me toward her, and God help me, I don’t fight her. I go where she wants me, sliding every inch of myself into her, and then freeze, waiting for her to push me away again. I’m on the bigger side and know it maybe too much for her.

She may decide that she doesn’t want me, after all.

And if she does, I’ll go quietly into my room and shoot myself directly in the head.

Instead of pushing me away, though, she wraps her legs around me and pulls me deeper, then runs her fingers through my hair and forces me to look at her. And fucking hell, the girl is more beautiful than I’ve ever realized, her lips swollen with my kisses and her eyes still hazy with sleep.

I pull out and then push back in, a question, an experiment, to see whether I’m welcome, and she closes her eyes in bliss.

“Orion,” she breathes. “God, please.”

I’ve never liked my name as much as I should have, thinking it nothing more than a flimsy thing I tried on once and never took off, but on her tongue it’s magic. It’s everything good in the world, everything safe and warm and welcoming. On her tongue, it’s the name of the man I want to be.

The man I think I might be able to find, if she stays.