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His brows pinch, and he shoots up, tackling me to my back. And what do I do? I squeal like a little girl, my head thrown back. I laugh so fucking hard as he ravishes my throat.
“You’re staying the night,” he says, matter-of-fact.
“Okay.” I feel his hair, smiling at the ceiling. His face is suddenly in my field of vision. His perfect face, sexed-up hair, his twinkly eyes, his dark-blond scruff. Adorable.
Something shifts in my chest as his mouth lowers slowly to mine and he kisses me softly. With a gentle purpose. Like I mean something to him.
And I match it.
Fuck.
Way, way,waymore trouble.
Chapter 19
I frown in my darkness. What is that? Whale music? Opening my eyes, staying still on my back, I scan my surroundings. Before I can even begin to piece together where I am, the soreness between my thighs tells me. I drop my head to the side, smelling he’s close, and the moment I set eyes on him, I’m fully awake. Fully alert.
My heart thrums its presence. “Oh shit,” I whisper. He’s on his front, his mouth open, his breathing quiet. Stunning, beautiful man. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” A replay of yesterday and last night parades through my mind.Amazing.
Worrying.
“Oh shit.” I grab a pillow and pull it over my face, grimacing. Aching. In the best possible way.
“What are you hiding from?”
I lift the pillow and peek out. Jude’s not moved but his eyes are open.
“Morning,” I say with a touch of awkwardness, which is crazy after yesterday. There can’t be an inch of my body he doesn’t know, hasn’t kissed or felt. And I’m confident I know every inch of the masterpiece that is Jude Harrison. At least, every inch of his body. What about his mind?
“Morning.” He props himself up on his forearms, his dazzling, sleepy eyes scanning my face. They’re lighter this morning. A greeny grey. Calm.
How can he look so fucking perfect with bedhead?Morning.That’s all he’s groggily said. And I’m giddy.Ridiculous.
He continues to study me, thoughtful.
“What?” I ask. “What are you looking at?”
“You.” Slipping a hand over my stomach, he drags me closer by my hip, getting on top of me. I’m cocooned, his arms framing my head. “Is that a problem?” He drops his mouth close to mine, subtly flexing his hips into me, and my rousing brain and body answer to his call. It’s true. Never enough. It’s like someone’s swept in and swept away my senses.
“No problem.” I lift and catch his mouth, and he hums happily as we kiss, my arms circling his shoulders, my legs his waist. No problem at all. He throbs against me. Something needy and greedy inside me begs for him all over again. Never,everenough. I groan into his mouth, flexing my hips up, and he slips into me quietly and slowly, breaking our kiss to retreat into my neck.
“God.” He stills, buried deep, absorbing my throbbing walls, and I wait patiently for him to move, stroking softly across his warm skin, feeling so calm. And when he does move, the world lights up in tiny but powerful explosions of light.
It’s serene, the pace easy, the build gradual. The need inside hasn’t dulled after a marathon of Jude Harrison yesterday. Scarily, I’m only left more insatiable.
I float away, absorbing his every drive, arching and relaxing, feeling and stroking his back. “This is the best wake up,” I murmur, nudging his face from my neck, needing his lips on mine, kissing me to release.
“Agree,” he says on a whisper, turning his head one way, swirling his tongue, biting my lip, before tilting, taking another angle, moaning. I move my hands to his bare arse and apply pressure, stroking over the solid rocks of flesh, sinking my nails in. He grunts, I swallow it, he moans, I reply with my own.
Bliss.
Breaking away, Jude gazes down at me, still rocking into me, a sheen of sweat peppering his brow, strands of his hair falling onto it andsticking. My hands stroke up to his shoulders, into his hair, and push it back, giving me all of his divine face.
His jaw tightens. “Amelia,” he whispers, my name sounding strained and urgent. “Fuck, Amelia.” He lowers his face back into my neck, his pace rising to another level. My blood pumps harder, faster, and hotter, and I know when he’s on the cusp because he sinks his teeth into my flesh, biting down lightly.
“Are you coming?” I ask, and he nods, grinding, pushing deep. It’s easy to go with him. Natural.
Sucking in air and holding it, I lock down every muscle around his shaft and roll over the edge, pulsating around him as he curses, his body rigid but shaking all over me. And peace floats down over us, the tingles strong but bearable.