Page 21 of The Surrender

“You can.” He finally collapses onto me and buries his face in my neck, and my eyes close, my hips meeting every one of his thrusts, chasing the pleasure. Then I hear him gasp and curse, before he quickly lifts his upper body and kneels, taking me under my knees and using his hold as leverage to yank me back and forth onto him.

I throw my other arm over my head and cling to the headboard, watching as Jude controls every bit of my body and our pleasure, feeling him expand inside me. “Fuck!” he roars, pumping harder. Faster.

I can’t talk to let him know I’m about to fall over the edge, my chest hurting from holding my breath, my eyes fixed on the Adonis before me on his knees, wet, hard, fucking gorgeous. My clit throbs. My thighs tense. My back arches.

And I come, releasing the air I’ve held on a loud yell, immediately shaking with the force, twitching, convulsing, shots of intense pleasure firing from my pussy to my toes, making them point. “Oh my God,” I wheeze, everything out of control, my body at the mercy of my orgasm.

Jude goes rigid, his jaw stiff, his head thrown back, as he comes hard, jolting over and over until it unbalances him and his arse drops to his heels, my lower body in his lap, his cock still held deep inside as he comes in powerful surges. Moaning.

I’m out of my mind.

I don’t think I’ll ever recover from that.

Our breathing is loud and chaotic, as I watch him ride the wave with me, a wildfire blazing inside, burning through all my doubts.

I love him. And I can’t fucking help that. Can’t stop it.

“Shit,” Jude gasps, dazed, appearing to shake his vision clear, his damp hair sticking around his eyes, the pieces flicking out from his nape starting to clump into wet locks. “Shit, shit, shit.” He drags a hand down his face, his body spasming every few seconds, the aftermath of his climax lingering. I’m spent. Dazed.

Still full of him.

My lids heavy, I let them close and listen to the pounding of blood in my ears as Jude somehow keeps himself inside me as he negotiates my body so he can come down on top of me. Falling onto his side, he pulls me close so we’re face-to-face, still connected, his dick softening against my walls.

“I’m not ready to leave you,” he says, breathless, kissing my damp forehead.

I don’t argue, moving in closer to his chest and entwining our legs. So sweaty. So hot.

So right.

Chapter 6

Whales call to me, the sound distant but clear. Light invades my eyes as I cautiously peel them open, finding Jude’s neck in my sights. The feel of his hands stroking through my hair registers, along with the warm softness of his cock still inside me.

Then the whales register again, and I push myself off his chest in a panic, wincing when he slips out of me.

Jude hisses. “What’s up?” he asks sleepily as I scramble to sit up.

“Fuck!” Pain slices through my hand, and I clench it to my naked boobs. “Ouch, ouch, ouch.”

“Careful,” he warns.

Disorientation gets me as I blink my eyes clear, snippets of last night coming back to me. I look at Jude, who’s rolled onto his back, apparently not concerned that we’ve slept through to morning. “Shit.”

“Amelia, what?” he asks, not opening his eyes.

I reach for the machine by his bed and shut up the whales. “Oh my God,” I blurt when I see the time. “Jude!” I jump up and run aimlessly around his bedroom trying to find my clothes, still not fully awake. “It’s eight!” I’m going to be so late! And I have a shit ton of stuff to get done. “Jude, help me.”

At a loss and unable to locate my clothes, I go to the edge of the bed and nudge him. Even if I knew where my clothes were, I probably wouldn’t be able to see them; my vision is still foggy. That was a deep sleep. I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve hardly slept for a week.

“Jude, wake up.”

He opens one eye and slowly props himself up against the headboard. “What?”

What? He must have been in a deep slumber too. “It’s eight o’clock.”

He frowns and looks at his whale machine. “In the evening, Amelia. For fuck’s sake.” He scrubs his hands down his face, exasperated, before reaching for my wrist and hauling me back into bed. “I don’t know why my alarm’s going off—I must have set it wrong.”

Evening? I fight Jude’s clutch and look towards the window. It’s dusk. If it were morning, it would be lighter. “Oh.” I fall back to the mattress and breathe out my relief, looking down at Jude’s hand on my tummy. I know I’m about to face some resistance, and, no, I don’t want to go, but I have some prep I need to do this evening for my lunchtime meeting tomorrow and my diary is jam-packed with calls in the morning, so there’s no chance of finding the time then, not to mention the fact that I need to pack. “I’ve got to go.” I roll onto my side and shuffle to the edge.