“Fuck, Alex.” His voice is rough, almost angry. His brow is pulled low, his jaw set hard, and I get a flashback to the Michael I met in Starbucks, the guy I ran into on Halloween. Finally—here’s the gruff man I wanted to ravage me. He’s brutal passion, intensity; his mouth set in a determined line as he drives into me again and again, all measure of self-control gone. It’s the most delicious sensation, the force of him slamming into me, the power in his hips as he shows me no mercy.
He’s giving me exactly what I want and it’s driving me wild—like, actually wild: I claw at him like an animal and bite into his arm beside me, making broken, mewling sounds. I seem to have lost all inhibitions because the only thing that matters right now is the feel of him inside me and the need blazing in his eyes.
It takes me entirely by surprise, my own release. I feel the pressure building, I know I’m winding up like a jack-in-the-box—but most of the time it never pops, not during sex, not unless I pry the lid open myself. But Michael is relentless and he knows exactly which spot to hit.
I gasp as I realize what’s happening, bucking against the mattress, my eyes pressing closed. He holds me down, grunting with exertion. I know he’s watching everything, but I’m too far gone to care. I’m splintering apart, scattering into the ether, riding the sensations ripping through me. A whimper escapes my lips and he lowers his mouth to capture it, to capture me as I give myself over to him.
Just as I think I’ve wrung every drop of pleasure from my body, it hits me again: another explosion of ecstasy, shattering me into a million pieces. Michael’s hand is tugging at my hair now, his mouth devouring mine, his hips still pumping forward, and I’m not sure how much more of this exquisite annihilation I can take. But he’s reached his limit too. He lets out a primal groan, throwing his body down onto me. I hold him close as he shudders against me, all of him mine in that moment. Then he goes still, his skin hot against mine, our breaths coming in ragged gasps.
We lie like that for a while, with him still inside me, his body still pressed against me, and I can’t help but wish he would never move.
34
Eventually, Michael peels himself off me and ducks into the bathroom. I stand to grab my underwear from the floor, but my legs buckle beneath me. Jesus. I can’t even stand after that, it was so good.
With a delirious giggle I push onto my wobbly legs and reach for my underwear, clumsily yanking them on. Michael returns a moment later with a chunky knitted blanket over one arm and a lazy smile on his mouth. He pulls on his boxer-briefs then hops back onto the bed, patting the spot next to him. I crawl up his side and he slips an arm around me, draping the blanket over us both. Then he dips his head to plant a long, lingering kiss on my lips, and I hum contentedly against his mouth.
“Just so you know,” I murmur, snuggling into his warm chest, “that was not disappointing.”
He chuckles and I feel it reverberate through my body as he tightens his arms around me. “Are you sure?”
I pull back, giving him a dead serious expression. “Are you kidding me? It wasn’t even on the borderline of disappointing. In fact,” I say, snuggling back in and inhaling his intoxicating, masculine scent, “I was not disappointed twice.”
“Oh.” He chuckles again, burying his face in my hair. “Good. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to not disappoint you. Ever since I saw you dressed up on Halloween…” he trails off and when I draw back to look at him, he’s biting hard into his bottom lip.
“Seriously?” I gape at him in disbelief. “You were checking me out as Snow White?”
“Fuck yes. You looked so damn hot in that costume.” He shakes his head and makes a sexy grunting sound, his eyes glinting. “You want to know what I did as soon as I got upstairs after seeing you in that?”
I give a little huff, feeling hot all over as I picture him at home, touching himself and thinking of me. And God, if I had a dollar for every time I’d done the same and thought of him, I’d be a bloody millionaire.
“I actually—” He breathes a laugh, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s about to admit. “I liked you the moment you spilled coffee on me in Starbucks.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Why do you think I held onto your number?”
I twist in his arms to face him properly. “But you were so angry!”
“Yeah, I was. Look, it wasn’t great being scalded by hot coffee.” He nudges me playfully in the arm. “But I was more mad at myself for being attracted to you.”
I bite back a grin, because that’s… that’s fucking adorable. “But why were you such a dick to me after that?”
“I don’t know.” He grimaces. “I was dealing with all that shit in court, and you just kept showing up, refusing to let me forget who you were.”
“It wasn’t intentional!”
“I know,” he says, a smile hinting at
