Happy, bangs my heart. More.
Then Locke slides down my body, relieving me of my clothes piece by piece, until I stand before him in just my underwear and bra. Every time with Locke feels like something new, like there’s another layer of ourselves that we’re baring to each other. Today, the way he’s looking at me makes me feel like he sees all the way inside me.
His eyes take a slow pass over my body, so much devastating arousal contained in his gaze that I shake with anticipation. “God, you’re gorgeous, Greer.”
If he can make me feel like this with only his eyes, lord help me when he turns those hands on me too.
Locke stalks forward again and lifts me off the floor.
“There are those arms,” I gasp.
He grins against my mouth. “Glad you approve.”
“Always.”
I wrap my legs around him as he carries me backward to the couch, and together we fall so I’m straddling him, my arms still locked tight around his neck.
“How’s your heart now?” I ask, and he moves one of my hands to the center of his chest and holds it there over his sweater. His pulse races along with mine, his heart in my palm.
“Beating for you, Greer.”
I’m completely, desperately screwed. I’m so far gone for him, I might never find my way back.
Locke’s words unleash so much need inside me that suddenly I can’t bear the fabric separating us. I tug his shirt over his head, and my eyes widen as I drink in the sight of his chiseled body, his ridged abs and strong, defined shoulders.
He lifts me off his lap only long enough to strip out of his pants, leaving him naked and hard and waiting.
“For you,” he repeats, taking himself in hand with a slow stroke to show me just how much he wants me. The move is so seductive—so wanton—that my desire turns liquid, running through my veins with an urgency I can’t contain.
I straddle him again, my soaked panties skimming his naked cock. And then I move, grinding against him, riding him half-naked but not all the way there. I need friction, I need touch, or I am going to lose my ever-loving mind.
A low groan slips from the back of Locke’s throat, and he reaches behind me to unhook my bra, dropping it to the floor in a single move. Then he bends his dark head and flicks his tongue over one of my nipples. The sensitive bud tightens under his attention, and he grins against me, enjoying my moan of pleasure. He blows a stream of cool air over my breasts and my nipples tighten more, almost painful in their arousal.
“Please, Locke.”
“Please, what?”
“Please fuck me.”
His rewarding smile is so dangerously close to I love you that I swear I can almost hear the words as he pushes my underwear aside and plunges into me.
Like this—mouth to mouth, chest to chest—Locke’s so damn big inside me that there’s no more room for air. I gasp as he fills me, so deep that we’re rooted together as one.
“Like this?” he whispers, kissing my chest.
“Yes,” I whimper, tossing back my head so hair spills over my shoulders. “God, yes.”
With a grin, Locke grips my hips. Arousal hoods his features and darkens his eyes so they’re almost black. Then he lifts me, the strength and control in his perfect body working for both of us in a shiver of sensation. His cock strokes into me so deliciously that I lose the ability to speak, to communicate in anything other than pants and moans and fragments of sentences.
But he’s with me too. “Fuck, Greer. It’s so—fuck.”
He lifts me and drags me down on his cock, again and again, and each time it feels like we come that much closer together. I rise and fall for him, circling my hips to milk every ounce of pleasure from both of us. We’re so damn connected, the push and pull of our bodies, the way we move together. Sweat slicks off our skin and my legs scream for rest, but I don’t dare stop because it feels so good.
“More,” I beg, though I’m not sure who I’m asking. “Please.”
Locke complies, reaching a hand under my panties to tease my clit, and my body bows forward. He’s destroying me even as he loves me, because there’s no coming back from this. There never was.
Another stroke of his cock and his fingers, moving in tandem, and my body starts to crest.
“I’m gonna come, Locke,” I pant, and I can feel it building, this orgasm that’s going to crush me.
“Me too, gorgeous.” The delicate tether of his control starts to fray, and his hands tighten on my skin. Locke’s breath grows ragged as he fucks me with abandon, hard and deep and beautiful.
“Locke,” I whimper, and then I come.
Shatter.
Explode.
My muscles clench so hard around Locke that I can feel him coming too. The heat of him, his body pulsing as he lets go.
Annihilation. It’s the best possible word to describe everything I feel right now as Locke kisses my forehead and holds me close to his chest. He’s breaking apart every one of my defenses.
My heart doesn’t stand a chance.
20
Locke
Greer Lively sleeps with a smile on her face.
In the million daydreams I’ve had about her, I never quite pictured her like this—in my bed, her face relaxed and a smile playing on her lips while her hair spills down her naked back.
How the fuck did I get so lucky? And why didn’t we do this ages ago? I didn’t know what I was missing out on before, and now I crave every fucking minute I can get with Greer.
I roll over in bed with the sudden urge to wake her just so I can selfishly bask in the glow of her attention, but I hold myself back because there’s no rush. What I told her before is true—I’m going to savor whatever we’ve started.
I kiss Greer’s bare shoulder, and she mutters a soft protest, curling
