Page 18 of Clayton (Bourbon & Blood #2)

Nine

CLAYTON

I can’t even count the number of nights I’ve lain awake dreaming of her like this.

Cold showers, jacking off like a horny teenager, nothing helped.

There were moments where I was even tempted to find another woman just to chase away her ghost. But those thoughts were always quickly dismissed, mostly because I knew no other woman would ever do, and because I knew that whatever it took, someday I’d have her back…

I’d have her laid out before me just like this.

Touching the silken skin of her thighs, inhaling the hot, drugging scent of her, I dip my head again, but it isn’t her thigh I kiss.

Instead, I press my lips against the slick folds of her sex, sliding my tongue between them and tasting her.

She moans and shivers beneath me, so I repeat the gesture, this time licking all the way up to the hardened nub of her clit.

She grabs my hair, her fingers tightening in it to the point of pain as she arches beneath me.

I suck her clit into my mouth and she goes quiet.

Annalee was never a screamer. When she’s close, hovering on the edge of orgasm, she holds her breath and not a sound escapes her.

I slip two fingers inside her, curling them forward as I withdraw, all the while keeping my mouth on her clit.

I know what she likes. I’ve always known.

There’s power in that, but it’s a two-way street. She can make me beg, too.

Her whole body trembles, from head to toe, every muscle tightening, and then going lax. I can feel the pulse of her orgasm on my tongue. Her grip on my hair loosens, and she simply sinks into the bed, all the tension leaving her.

“Oh god,” she breathes. “I forgot how good that could feel.”

“We’re not done yet. Not by a long shot,” I tell her.

Immediately she sits up on the edge of the bed and reaches for the fly of my pants. Her lips are curved in a seductive smile as she frees the button and lowers the zipper. “You are so right about that. ”

I kick off my shoes and push my pants down.

I don’t know what she has in mind, but as long as it involves both of us getting to come at some point, I don’t care.

She slides off the bed onto the floor until she’s on her knees in front of me.

I can feel her breath on my cock, the hard points of her nipples pressed against my thighs.

She leans in and kisses the head of my cock, her tongue swirling over me like it’s a treat, it’s all I can do not to lose it right there. I don’t doubt for a minute that she knows exactly what she’s doing to me. She’s watching me watch her and putting on a hell of a show.

When she takes me in completely, sucking deep and hard, my breath hisses out. My hands are in her hair, whether to hold her there or push her away, I’m not sure. It feels too good, and if she keeps going, this night is going to be a hell of a lot shorter than I planned.

“ Fuck .” The word comes out on a hiss as her hand closes tightly around me, sliding over me as she withdraws. “No more, Annalee. I can’t take it.”

She pouts, her full lips wet and glistening, hovering over me. “But I love doing this for you…I li ke making you moan.”

“Some other time,” I tell her and lift her onto the bed. I shed the rest of my clothes before joining her. Her thighs part immediately, her legs locking around me, guiding me home.

Sliding into the scorching heat of her, feeling her close around me like a fist, takes my breath away. Literally. With my weight resting on my elbows, looking down at her beautiful face—eyes closed, her lips parted on a soft cry—I never thought I’d have this again.

Nudging a little deeper, I take one hand and slide it behind her knee, hiking it up just a little further. I swear to God, she could probably hook her foot behind her own head. I’ve never been so happy to have paid for yoga classes in my damned life.

The angle is perfect. I knew it would be because I know her, her body, every little tell, every place to touch her that makes her shiver and moan. Her stomach is quivering, the muscles flexing and contracting rhythmically. I can feel the tension in her thighs before the first stroke.

She opens her eyes and looks at me. A smile spreads across her lips, slow and sexy. Her hair is fanned out on the pillow and there’s a soft flush on her cheeks…she’s every fantasy I’ve ever had and I’m balls deep inside her right now. For the first time in a goddamn year, my life is nearly perfect.

“What are you waiting for, Clay? You’ve got me where you want me…do something about it,” she dares.

I flex my hips against hers, deeper, thrusting just a little. “Once I start, it’ll be a mad rush to the finish line. I want this moment to savor.”

She moves against me, her hips undulating in a slow circle that it takes everything in me to resist. I place one hand on her hips, holding her still. She’s not taking control. Not this time anyway.

“I like looking at you this way—watching your eyes flutter closed when you moan my name, watching your lips part when you cry out.” I pause for a second and then utter words that I know will make her crazy.

“And knowing that every time you moan, beg or call out to God, it’s because I’ve got my cock buried inside the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.

” She shudders beneath me, her whole body reacting to the statement like it was something physical.

Her hands fist in the bedclothes and she strains against me, arching upward and taking me in just a little deeper. I have to grit my teeth and count just not to come on the spot.

I withdraw almost completely, feeling her body clench around me, trying to hold on. I’m not gentle when I plunge into her again. It’s hard and fast, even a little angry. Her hands are on my back, her nails digging into my shoulders, and she throws her head back on a sob.

I grab her wrists and pin her hands to the bed with mine. The little bit of control I had is now long gone. There’s no sound in the room except our heavy breathing and our bodies coming together.

It’s no longer about finesse or skill. It’s just need and the animalistic drive to finish, to mark her, to make sure that she and everyone else know she’s mine.

The heat of her closes around me, her inner muscles flexing and clenching in a rhythm that makes my head spin.

Every thrust and withdrawal, I’m aware of her, of the tension in her thighs, the quivering of her belly.

When I feel her hips arch beneath me, her body pushing up from the bed as her head falls back, her lips part on a silent cry.

I can feel the pulsing of her body around me as she comes for me.

I’m right behind her. Driving deep one last time, I press my face against her neck and let it wash through me.

ANNALEE

Clayton’s weight presses me down into the bed, his hands are still shackling my wrists.

I’ve never felt trapped by him. Only cherished, protected, desired.

It’s no different now, except that I had forgotten just how good it feels to have him inside me, to feel the strength and heat of him.

I’ve also forgotten how good it feels to orgasm with someone else, no batteries required.

He shifts slightly, withdrawing from me.

I shiver at the movement. All the nerve endings are still firing, creating a heightened sensitivity to every touch.

I’m still waiting for the world to right itself.

Yes, the sex was amazing. It always was.

That was why it was such a blow when he just stopped touching me, stopped looking at me, when I’d go to bed and wake up alone.

I didn’t understand the shift, and a part of me still doesn’t.

“This doesn’t mean we’re back together,” I say aloud. It would be more convincing if my breath wasn’t still ragged and my voice didn’t sound like, well, like I’d just been fucked.

“Can we fight later? I’m too tired now,” he replies.

“Asshole.”

He rolls off me completely, onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. “I don’t think we can go back to where we were, instantly. But do you think we can at least wait until our heart rates have returned to normal before we’re at each other’s throats again?”

I turn on my side. “Is that what this is? At each other’s throats? I thought we were having a conversation.”

“We can’t have a conversation…not until all the blood makes it back to my brain anyway.”

He’s got me there. There’s no denying that, at least at the present moment, I have the advantage. “ What are you going to do now…about Samuel?”

He scratches his chest. I watch his hand moving over his skin, mesmerized by it. I’ve had two mind-blowing orgasms. It shouldn’t be possible to want more, but I do.

“First thing tomorrow, I meet with the attorney and get the papers drawn up that will allow him to transfer guardianship to Mia, Quentin, and myself. Then the house…Quentin doesn’t want it.

He can barely stand to step foot in it. I don’t know if Mia does or not, but my plan is to have him deed it to her. ”

“And the evidence in the box? That’s all just to make him go along with it? Nothing happens to him for committing heaven only knows how many crimes?”

“I’m going to do what I can. But if it comes down to getting justice or just ensuring that the people I love are taken care of, you know what I have to go with.

All of this was for Mama…and for you, Emma Grace, Mia.

He’s destroyed too many people already,” Clayton says.

The hand that was on his chest has moved over and is now tracing lazy circles on my hip .

“Stop trying to distract me. How do you get that evidence to someone to do something with it and not incriminate yourself?”

“I can’t,” he admits. “I could maybe give Matt Crawford a heads up about some of it, but the really serious stuff is out of his jurisdiction.”

“Do what you need and then just let it all go…I don’t care if he goes to prison. I don’t care what happens to him as long as I get to have you back.”

He looks at me. “I thought this didn’t mean we were back together.”

“Don’t be an idiot. Of course we’ll get back together. But we need to, on the surface, take things slow. Emma Grace is already confused enough.”

Clayton laughs. “She isn’t confused about anything. That kid has it more put together than either one of us.”

I can’t deny that. “Fine. I’m confused. Happy?”

He smiles at me, tugs me closer until I’m tucked against his side. “I’m getting there. If you let me get some sleep now, we could probably do this again before I have to leave in the morning. ”

I reach behind me and turn off the lights. “Fine. But if it’s early morning, you’re doing all the work.”

“Yes, ma’am.”