Page 104 of The Parent Trap

“I know,” he murmurs, rising up against me, growling as he buries into me as deeply as our union allows. “I know you are.”

“So show me.” I bite his lip, sharply, and he hisses in surprise. “Show me, Thai. I can take everything you can give me. I want it all. All of you. Don’t hold back. Don’t youdarefucking hold back, Matthais Bristow.”

“God, Delia. You make me so fucking crazy,” he growls, surging harder into me.

I meet him thrust for thrust, taking him and rolling my hips harder to demand more. “Good.Showme. I want your crazy.”

He snarls. Adjusts his grip on my ass, tugging me farther apart, so he can go deeper. “How can you be real?” He gasps for breath, and even that is a helpless groan of delirious desire. “How can you be mine?”

“How canIbeyours?” I whisper. “I don’t even know. But I am. And you are. This is real. We’re real. And I want more. Fuckingmore, Thai.”

With a wild, desperate sound of abandon, his mouth crashes against mine and our tongues tangle and our breath is a fusion. He hikes me higher and presses me hard against the door and now he truly lets go. His movements become desperate and crazed, his thrusts beautifully rough, almost violent. I’m shaken by his thrusts. I cry out with pleasure at each one, throwing my head back as he snarls gutturally each time he drives into me, surging home. My breasts jounce with his thrusts, bouncing upward, and his hips slap loudly against my ass. I cry with each thrust, and each cry is louder, wilder.

I can’t move, now. Can’t do anything but hold on and take it, cling to him and delight in each new pounding thrust.

“Thai!” I scream. “Ohmygod…Thai,yes, god yes!” My chants break into sobs, then, wordless and shattered as I dissolve into an orgasm that builds and builds.

It’s as much emotional as it is sexual, this climax of mine.

Ofours.

Because he’s there with me.

“With me, Thai,” I beg, gasping, lips against his. “With me. Now, now, please now, please come with me, come with me Thai, I want you to come with me.”

He makes a sound I can’t interpret, like a gasp or a growl, or something in between. There are no words to it, because there are no words for this.

He pushes up into me, and I roll my hips to take it, to meet it. Try to lift and sink, to make it more, to make it better, seeking deeper connection. I’m gasping, crying, and I feel tears on my cheeks, wet trails on my chin, so savaged by this endless mad climax am I—and Thai is moaning, thrusting, and his groan breaks, and I feel the emotion in him.

Touch my forehead to his and then kiss his temple. He surges, and I feel him stagger, not under my weight but the breaking of his own strength, under the ravaging intensity of his swelling climax as it builds to meet mine. I kiss his cheekbone, his jaw. I kiss his eyes, and I taste salt.

I open my eyes and pull back, meet his gaze.

He ducks his head as if to hide the evidence of his emotion, but I cup his jaw and prevent him from hiding it. I smile at him and I kiss his eyes and his cheeks.

His face crumples, and his mouth drops open, and a groan rips from his throat, and he surges up against me, sliding as deep as possible, and then I feel him explode inside me.

He shakes all over, clutching me, desperately fighting to stay upright, to hold me in place. I’m filled with him as he gasps raggedly and thrusts again, and again, each one accompanied by a snarl and a groan, and I come around him, teeth gritted as I scream with clenching, smashing explosions, racked and battered by a thousand waves of ecstasy.

Finally, he can’t stand up anymore.

We sink to the ground, and I go to my back and accept his weight and somehow I never lost him—I couldn’t explain how we made it from standing to missionary on the floor without losing our union, but here we are and it’s not over…I’m shaking, every muscle trembling, sex spasming and rippling around him, tightening and quivering.

He’s braced above me, helplessly driving into me, as if he cannot stop until he’s chased every last drop of heaven out of each of us.

I wipe at his cheeks. Smile.

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Delia. I don’t know what—”

I cradle his ass in my hands and pull him closer. “Don’t apologize, Thai,” I murmur, kissing his chin, and then his cheeks, still damp. “I love it.”

He frowns. “I…It’s…”

I touch his lips to shush him. “It’s manly. It’s masculine. It’s powerful.” I gnaw on his lower lip, smiling as I do so. “There’s nothing so intimate and sexy as a man who can be vulnerable.”

“It’s you,” he says. “You…” He laughs. “You bring out the best in me.”

“Why do you laugh when you say that?” I ask.