“Ah damn I love it when you wrap yourself around me,” he groaned. “You’re so damn warm and soft. I love how you feel.”
“I love the way you make me feel,” she said seriously. “You make me feel beautiful, Nathan.”
He scowled, his brows drawing together until he looked positively ferocious. “You are beautiful. You’re fucking gorgeous. I swear to God I can’t breathe around you sometimes.”
“You have to stop or, swear to God, I’m going to cry.”
“Ah hell, anything but that.”
He gathered her tight, holding her so that no space separated them. Flesh against flesh, her breasts molded to his chest, her body curved around his.
His hips flexed, his body arched as he thrust into her, keeping a leisurely pace.
What she’d said was true. He made her feel so very beautiful. No man had ever made love to her the way Nathan did. Sure, they had hot, dirty sex, and she loved every minute of it, but just as many times he took things so slow and loved her so sweetly that it was all she could do not to burst.
Her chest ached. Her soul ached. She couldn’t live without this man. She didn’t want to.
Just jump.
Take the leap.
Fly.
And she did. Straight into his arms. He held her tight as she burst into a million tiny pieces. Love and warmth flooded her. She soared. She floated. He was there to catch her.
“I love you,” she said brokenly as her orgasm splintered through her groin.
He buried his face in her neck, kissing the tender skin just below her ear. “Ah, I love you too, honey. So damn much. Hold on to me, baby. I’m coming.”
She arched upward, gripping him tightly. Her nails dug into his back just the way he liked, and then she slid her hands down to his tight ass and cupped him as he pumped into her body.
His teeth sank into the column of her neck and an agonized groan burned over her skin. His entire body tensed over hers, and his warmth flooded her.
He collapsed onto her, driving them both into the mattress. She lay there, holding him, stroking his back up and down. He didn’t stir right away and she was content to lie there, with him in her arms.
She kissed his muscular shoulder and then ran her hand over his bald head.
“Stay,” she begged when he started to move away.
“Don’t you know, honey? I’m never going anywhere.”
He kissed her again and then rolled to his side, carrying her with him. He was still buried inside her, and their limbs were all tangled up like some crazy knot.
“I love you,” he said gruffly. “That ain’t going to change. Ever.”
She smiled against his chest and for once didn’t begrudge the shimmer of tears that welled in her eyes.
“You know, Tucker, I think I just might believe you.”
CHAPTER 23
Micah balanced the tray and headed up the stairs toward the private rooms. He’d mentioned sleep, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep until he’d had Angelina again. Far from sated, his entire body ached with unfulfilled need.
When he pushed open the first door, he saw her draped naked across the bed, her long hair fanned out. Her arms were folded, her head resting at her wrists as she lay on her belly.
He hardened all over again.
She looked up when he entered, but she didn’t move. She simply waited.
He set the tray aside, knowing the sandwiches would keep. In a matter of seconds, he had his jeans off, and he strode toward the bed, eyeing the delectable curve of her ass. He’d take her there later, when he had time to prepare her. For now, he wanted inside her so badly that the need consumed him.
He grasped her ankles and pulled her toward the edge of the bed. When her ass was level with his cock, he cupped her full bottom and lifted and spread, baring her pussy to his advance.
With no work-up, no preamble, he shoved into her, sliding deep into her silken clasp.
He fell forward, his hands slapping the mattress on either side of her body. It wasn’t a time for slow, easy loving. That would come later, when some of the edge was gone. She was a need that fired deep in his blood.
There was desperation to his movements. His hips pumped forward in quick, jerky motions. His hips slapped against her ass with little finesse. It reminded him of a crude, quick fuck. And it was.
No words, no gentle endearments. It shamed him even as pleasure sizzled through his groin and painfully through his dick.
He was getting off quick, and it didn’t really matter if she did or not.
You’re a bastard. You have no business touching her.
It didn’t matter that he’d warned her. He’d been brutally honest with her. She knew what to expect and she’d accepted that. And still, guilt ate away at his gut.
He slammed into her, driving harder as he felt his orgasm flash over him. One ... two more quick, brutal thrusts and he was spilling himself inside her.
As he eased away, his cum smeared over her skin, and it turned him on all over again.
He turned away in disgust, reaching for the tray. He’d turned into an animal. Always, always he’d put a woman’s pleasure above his own. He loved and cherished women, and yet he treated Angelina with contempt almost. All because she claimed to care about him.
His hands shook when he set the tray down on the bed. Angelina slowly got up and walked into the bathroom. When she returned, no accusation reflected in her eyes. No animosity. He could swear they still brimmed with affection and trust.
She crawled onto the bed and sat cross-legged next to him. He handed her a plate but didn’t look at her.
“Do you have the remote?” she asked.
He reached over to the nightstand to get the remote and handed it to her.
They ate in silence, the television covering the awkwardness. She ate the sandwich he’d fixed and periodically switched channels. After the thirteenth channel, he cast her a sideways look.
“I thought guys were the serial flippers?”
She grinned. “Can’t help it. Short attention span. It used to bug the shit out of David. Hannah would leave the room when we started arguing.”
For the first time since Angelina had burst into his well-ordered existence, he didn’t experience a surge of pain when she talked about David and Hannah.
“She never did like arguing. She was a born peacemaker.”
Angelina nodded. “And I was a born hothead. Not sure where I got it. David said our dad was a lot like Hannah. Quiet, reserved. I think David took after him. He was always so even keel. He used to tease me and tell me I got all the Latin genes.”