Beautiful Player Page 57
“I don’t want you to be gentle, either.”
I looked at her br**sts, her belly, where she held me between her legs. I wanted to feel her bare skin on my cock. I’d never in my life had sex without a condom and wanted to feel her so much it hardened me further. “I’ll make it good,” I spoke into the skin of her neck. “Just let me feel you.”
Hanna jerked beneath me, pressing me into her opening, her eyes fluttering closed as I shifted forward.
A hot flush crawled up her neck and her lips parted in a sweet sigh. It was overwhelming for me to watch her process what we were about to do, and I could see the moment when it happened, when it really hit her that we were about to have sex. She opened her eyes again, and her gaze fell to my lips and went softer, calmed momentarily from the frenzy. She ran her hands up my chest and cupped my neck, whispering, “Hey.”
That look, that tenderness in her eyes, made me realize for the first time what was happening to me: I was falling in love.
“Hey,” I rasped, bending to kiss her.
It was a relief so enormous it wrung the air from my lungs, and I deepened the kiss, wondering whether she could feel from my touch that I had just put a name to what we were doing—making love—or if she simply tasted her sex on my tongue, and didn’t understand that my entire world had just spun free of its programmed orbit.
I pulled my face back but pushed my hips forward, aching to feel the softness of her body fully pressed to mine; I just wanted to get inside her and stay deep.
Fuck.
Good, hot, holy fuuuck.
She looked up at me as I slid deeper, but she no longer seemed to be able to see my face. Her eyes were glazed, overwhelmed, and tiny little inward gasps accompanied her every inhale. A tight twinge of pain passed over her face. I was only a few inches in, and it was tight, but it was so f**king good.
I heard my own voice come out but it sounded faraway: “Open up for me, Plum. Move with me.”
Hanna relaxed, lifting her legs higher up her sides so I slid in deeper, and we both let out a taut moan. She gave her hips an experimental roll, pulling me fully inside, and the sensation of her warm thighs pressed to my hips caused me to let out a loud grunt.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she whispered, stilling below me.
“I know.” I kissed her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her lips.
She nodded, pushing up, unconsciously telling me with her body that she needed me to move.
I pulled back, starting an easy rhythm, getting lost in the feel of her warmth. I would pick up my pace, sucking savagely on her neck, growing wild and heated and then slow, and eventually stop, kissing her deeply, relishing the way her hands explored my back, my ass, my arms, my face.
“You okay?” I asked, moving—but slowly—again. “Not too sore?”
“I’m good,” she whispered, turning into my hand when I swept some damp hair off her forehead.
“You look so f**king perfect under me.”
I wanted to build the need in her, make her go off like a bomb when she finally came with me inside her like this. She started to shake when I sped up, but growled in tight frustration when I slowed again. But I knew she trusted me, and I wanted to show her how f**king good it could be if there was no rush, no need to do anything but this for hours, and hours.
I kissed her, sucked on her tongue, stole every one of her sounds into my mouth, swallowing them like a greedy f**king bastard. I loved her hoarse noises, how often she said please, how much she let me drive what we were doing. The reality of her, sweaty and pliable beneath me, ate away at my calm, and I shifted from lazy pushing into quicker, hungrier thrusts. She answered with mirrored movements of her hips, arching into me, and I knew this time she was close and I couldn’t stop or slow.
“Feel good?” I ground out, pressing my face to her neck.
She nodded, unable to answer, hands gripping my ass and fingernails digging sharply in my flesh. I pulled her leg up, pushing her knee to her shoulder and let go, f**king her as fast and hard and close to her body as I could.
It was wild, unreal, explosive the way her orgasm built beneath her skin first as a flush, and then a tightening of her muscles until she was shaking, and sweaty and begging unintelligible words beneath me, preparing to come.
“That’s it,” I whispered, struggling to hold back my own release even as it itched low in my belly. “Fuck, Plum, you’re right there . . .”
I watched her eyes squeeze closed, her mouth open, and her body bow off the bed as she screamed in climax. I moved through it, giving her every single second of pleasure I could possible wring from her body.