Page 33 of The Unexpected Lineup (Lost in Translation #2)
I’D HOLD YOU ALL NIGHT IF YOU LET ME
HAISLEY
R asmus stands behind me in front of the full-length mirror, his hands roaming over my skin, his body pressed against mine. The bedside lamp casts a warm hue over us, making the moment even more intimate.
I notice the minor changes in my body. My breasts are fuller and heavier, while my nipples are overly sensitive, as Rasmus’ lips proved moments ago. My other curves are also softer, and there’s a faint swell in my abdomen.
Ramus notices everything, too. Of course he does. His hands slide up to cup my breasts, thumbs moving over my aching nipples. His dark eyes meet mine as he watches my ecstatic reactions to his addicting touch. He studies me as if I’m the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.
“You’re beautiful. There are no words to describe how I feel seeing you like this,” he tells me, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of my neck. I love how his beard feels against my sensitive skin. “Look at you. How did I get so lucky? ”
I do look at us. I can’t help but do that when he touches me unhurriedly, worshipping my body. I’m not only wanted but adored by him. My skin flushes under his large teasing and exploring hands. He hardens against my lower back, his body responding as intensely as mine does.
His right hand trails down my stomach again, fingers tracing the faint curve of my belly. He rests his hand there, memorizing tonight. I lean into him, arching my back as his fingers slip between my legs, stroking me slowly. My breath catches, and I try to clench my thighs together.
“Let me see all of you, sweetness,” he whispers, his voice is thick with arousal as his lips brush against the shell of my ear, making me moan in return. His free hand slides lower between my legs, spreading me open for him.
I watch myself in the mirror as his fingers slide inside me, deep and unhurried.
“Fuck, I love this,” he groans. “You’re so wet for me. Always so fucking perfect and ready for my cock, aren’t you, my good girl?” His forehead drops to my shoulder. I whimper at the stretch his fingers provide. “You feel so damn good. I could stay like this all night.”
But I need more than his touch. My body is already on fire, desperate for more of him, more of this. “Ras, please.”
“Please what?”
“You know what,” I pant, pushing back against him. “I need all of you.”
He pulls his fingers from me and guides me forward until my hands brace against the mirror. The cool glass meets my palms, and I get flashbacks from our first time. We were as wild and desperate back then .
What I don’t expect is his palm that comes down against my ass. The slap isn’t harsh. It’s more like a test. His gaze in the mirror darkens as he waits for my reaction.
“More,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
His low chuckle makes my core tighten. “What a good girl, taking everything I give you. I can feel your heart racing, so fucking desperate for me.”
I nod as my pulse hammers in my ears.
“Use your words.” His hand trails over the reddening spot. “I need your words, sweetness.”
“Yes,” I moan. “Spank me, please.”
He hums in approval. The next smack is harder. The sting mixes with the overwhelming heat between my thighs, and I moan loudly. He keeps me steady with one hand as he delivers another sharp slap.
“You love this, don’t you?” His voice is pure filth. “You love it when I get rough with you.”
I can’t even pretend I don’t. “Yes,” I gasp.
“Good girl.”
The praise sends a fresh wave of arousal pooling between my legs. He notices it and groans.
“I should punish you for being so fucking desperate for my cock,” he says as he drags his fingers through my slick heat. “But I need to be inside you more.”
I whimper at the loss of his touch, but it doesn’t take long until Rasmus lines himself up behind me, teasing my opening with the tip of his hard cock .
“Watch,” he orders. “Pay attention to how perfect you look taking me.”
The moment he pushes inside, we both groan, his name slipping from my lips as my body stretches to accommodate his bigger size.
“You always take me so fucking well,” he praises, sliding his hand up to grip my throat lightly. “Such a perfect woman. And all mine.”
“All yours,” I echo, my voice shaky. His possession is everything I didn’t know I needed.
His hold on my throat tightens as his thrusts grow deeper and more desperate. I don’t look away from the mirror—the sight of him buried deep inside me is intoxicating. The sound of skin against skin fills the room as he sets a punishing pace.
“Fuck, sweetness,” he grits out. “You feel even better than I remembered.”
His hand comes down on my ass again, the sharp sting blending with pleasure.
“You like that, don’t you?” He watches me squirm. “I felt you tightening around me when I spanked you.”
“Yes.” I moan, the pleasure coiling tight in my stomach following his words. Every thrust sends sparks of heat licking up my spine, pushing me closer to the finish line.
My fingers curl against the glass as I try to ground myself, but I’m already too far gone in every way possible.
“Come for me,” he rasps, biting at my ear lobe. “Show me what a good girl you are. ”
His words and a few more thrusts tumble me over the edge. My pussy clenches around him, overwhelming pleasure ripping through me. His grip tightens on my waist as he follows, spilling deep inside me with a guttural groan.
Everything stills; the only sound in the room is our ragged breathing. Rasmus doesn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he keeps me pressed against the mirror, admiring us as we catch our breaths.
When he eases out of me, his eyes flicker down, and his breath catches. “Look at that.”
The way he enjoys watching his release slowly leak from between my thighs makes me want more. But before I have a chance to say or do anything about it, he swipes a finger through my sensitive center. He brings the evidence of our lovemaking to my lips.
I part them for him, tasting him, tasting us. Something about it is even more intimate than the sex itself. His guttural groan is immediate as his free hand grips my waist again. “Fuck, Haisley. You’re going to kill me.”
I turn and press a kiss on his bearded jaw. “Not tonight.”
Growling, he kisses me and moans, enjoying the taste of us lingering on my lips.
Putting too much weight on my hurt ankle, I wince as the aftermath of our lovemaking sends a sharp ache through me. Rasmus catches it and curses under his breath. “I should’ve realized it would be too much.”
“Why don’t you take me to bed for round two?”
He chuckles, hoisting me up and lays me down gently. “Sweetness, I think we both need sleep after the day we’ve had. ”
I playfully pout, and he mutters something about teasing him before sliding in beside me. His hands roam over my skin again, this time lazier. His lips follow, pressing soft kisses on my shoulder.
“You really want more?” he asks me between kisses.
I hum in response, my body still recovering. My skin is hypersensitive under his touch, but I can’t seem to have enough. But this time, there’s no urgency. Just us.
Rasmus breathes me in. “I’m tempted because you smell like us. Fuck, it’s hot.”
“I love the way you smell, too,” I admit. “Like the woods, sex, and home combined.”
He groans softly, wrapping an arm around my waist. “That might be the best compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
He traces his hand over the spot where he spanked me.
“Are you okay?” he asks in a serious tone. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
I shake my head. “Not at all.”
He turns me around so we’re facing each other. Looking deep into my eyes, he asks. “It wasn’t too much?”
“No.” I press a hand to his chest over the tattoo of a swallow near his heart, feeling its steady rhythm beneath my palm. “It was just different.”
“Good different?”
“Really good different.”
“That’s what I want to hear,” he brushes a kiss against my forehead. “I want to keep learning everything you like. ”
“I like this too,” I admit.
“This?”
My fingers move over his chest. “The way you hold me after.”
He studies me and brushes a strand of hair away from my face. “I’d hold you all night if you let me.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Get comfortable, sweetness. I’m never letting you go.”
Rasmus gets out of the bed and soon returns with a damp washcloth. With gentle movements, he touches me, cleaning the evidence of our lovemaking. When he finishes, he tosses the cloth in the laundry basket and pulls me flush against him once again.
His body is many things, but only one adjective to describe it runs through my mind as we lie there in silence: safe.
And that scares me.