Page 187 of Charming Like Us

“I am, too.”

His brows jump in surprise. “You are?”

I laugh. “Meu raio de sol,we’re married. For tonight at least. I’m your husband.”

That last statement charges a stronger voltage in the air. Arousal builds as our eyes search one another.

“And I’m your husband tonight,” Jack says, amplifying the powerful current even more. He’s still shivering, and I know how to heat him up.

Leaning down, I press my lips to his, guiding them open the same time as I open him below with my fingers. We fall into a rhythm as I lightly thrust against him. He deepens the kiss, and when he cuts away to let out a ragged, chopped breath, I have to pull my fingers out of him.

My erection throbs. I spread his legs open a little more and run a hand along his shaft. “You ready?”

“Please.”

Fuck. I answer him by sinking inside him, slowly filling him. It feels too good for words, and my bliss is only heightened by the arousal in Jack’s eyes. His hands fly to his head as I pump into him. Chests nearly flush, my lips press against the base of his jaw.

The bed rocks with my force, and my breath heavies and staggers as I push in and out, creating beautiful intoxicating friction. Jack’s erection slides against my abs, and I reach down to give him a few pumps. Pre-cum coating my palm.

When I pull away, he has this tortured look in his eyes. He’s about to reach down.

I slow my thrusts so that I can take his hand and put it back on his head. “Do me a favor, Long Beach,” I say in heavy breath. “Keep your hands on your head.”

A. It’s fucking adorable.

B. I don’t want him touching himself tonight.

He gives me a worried look. “Then I can’t touch you, Os.”

Ah, yes. This is his insecurity about being selfish. “You don’t need to touch me,” I tell him. “I’m inside you, Highland.”

His face flames. “God.” His muscles twitch. And he nods, a moan rough on its way out. “You feel good inside me.”

I’m on a fucking ascent right now. Nerves pricking, blood cranked up. And I rock against him in two hard movements that cause his eyes to snap closed. “Os.”

“You alright?” I ease to a gentler rhythm.

His eyes open slowly, his hands fisting his hair. “Dude, please do that again.”

I pump in two jackhammer movements that cause a deep, guttural groan from his chest. It blazes every nerve-ending in my body, and I press closer as I keep a steadier pace. Something that won’t make him too sore tomorrow.

Thrusting my hips, flexing smoothly down and in.

My hand returns to his length. He shudders after two strokes, and I pull away again. The whimper on his lips sounds fragile. Our foreheads slide together. Breaths melding. “Os,” he pleads.

“Not yet,” I whisper.

My movements have slowed so much that I feel him trembling against me. Like he craves those two hard pumps either from my hand or my cock and I’m giving him neither.

But I want to eke out every last second of this.

If this is all we have.

Sweat coats our bodies, built between us like a blanket of heat. My hair sticks to my forehead, and Jack takes a hand off his head. Just to push my hair back for me. Tenderness wraps around us, and we’re practically cradling each other as I rock in and out of him. His muscled chest glistens in sweat, and he leaves his palm on my head. Fingers threaded into my hair now. I’m thanking every star and moon and sun for sending him to me.

My body aches for a pleasured release, and when I up the pace, Jack’s fingers coil in my hair. “OsOsOs.”

“Fuck,” I moan and groan, grabbing onto the headboard as I push harder, wanting deeper.