Page 57 of Rogue Wave

This may have started in a rush, but now I made love to her slowly, drawing the pleasure out. She let out a deep sigh as I buried myself impossibly deeper.

I felt so consumed by her, so fiercely connected.

“Hank, I’m so close,” she panted.

She looked like a goddess, with her swollen lips, flushed cheeks, hair splayed out in a tangled mess on my pillow, and a heat in her eyes that showed both deep affection and dark lust.

I moved my hand to her clit, rubbing circles, trying to help get her there. The next round would be for exploring—the one where I took my time learning what made her feel good. This first time—this was all about speed and satisfaction from it.

We were both hanging on the edge and just needed to get there fast.

I felt my balls draw back and knew I was seconds away from my own release.

She writhed beneath me as she held on for dear life to the sheets clutched in her fists.

She cried out as she clenched my dick, squeezing it as her core pulsated from her release.

That was my cue to let go, and I took that final leap with her over the edge.

A guttural moan escaped my mouth as I experienced a level of orgasm euphoria that I had never experienced before.

I collapsed on top of her, trying to keep the bulk of my weight on my left arm, which was doing a flimsy job of holding me up.

I peppered her with gentle kisses as our heartbeats calmed and our breathing went back to normal.

“I love the feel of your beard on my skin,” she whispered, smiling up at me.

Note to self…never shaving this off.

Eventually, I got up to remove the condom and clean us both up before settling back on the bed with her.

As I lay there with Hazel wrapped around me, stroking the silky skin on her arms and placing small kisses on her shoulders, I knew I was in trouble.

As in the kind of trouble that lasted a lifetime.

16

“Humidity: making bad hair days a global phenomenon since forever.”

—It’s science

Hazel

Foggy Ridge was really living up to its name. This made for a great, lazy start to the morning with Hank’s body wrapped around mine—something I had been enjoying for the past week, ever since Hank and I first had sex.

“Mornin’.” There weren’t enough words to describe the sound a man made when he’d just woken up. Sexy, rugged, amazing—those terms just don’t do it justice.

“Morning,” I replied, my voice full-on swooning as I stared back at the delicious, bearded man inches away from me. “I don’t want to get up.”

I never wanted to leave his warm bed, but I had to earn a paycheck, which meant I had to go to work.

A wicked grin stretched across his face. “Then you probably shouldn’t get up. You should just lie there and let me have my way with you instead.”

And I let him.

Best way to wake up, bar none.

Now, it was almost lunchtime on Saturday, and the sun was out there somewhere, still buried beneath the thick fog.