Hendrix (Raleigh Raptors 3) - Page 33

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It was exactly that—amazing. Every ounce of my concentration held my body in check as I built her pleasure again, dipping to kiss her breasts, stroking my hands over her nipples, then reaching between us to lightly stroke her climax-sensitive clit.

“More,” she demanded. “Please, Hendrix. More.” She gripped my hair, my neck, my shoulders, urging me on.

“Let me get you—”

“I won’t break.” She locked eyes with me. “Stop holding back.”

Just once.

I snapped, thrusting hard and deep.

“Yes!” She cried out, her neck arching as her nails scraped my back.

That was all I needed to hear. Again and again, I thrust home, setting our rhythm like the secondhand on a clock, bottoming out deep before starting over again. I should have flipped her over, taken her in every position, made the most of this one time we had together, but I couldn’t imagine anything better—anything hotter than looking in her eyes as I slammed into her over and over, meeting the demands of her hips with my own.

All too soon, her body tightened again, her thighs tensing around my hips, her breath quickening. The rush gathered in my spine, my climax hovering, growing to unstoppable heights.

I felt it charge and stroked my thumb over her clit, bringing her over with me as I came in a long, hoarse cry that sounded like her name. My orgasm crashed through me, overwhelmed me, sent me to the very stars as I heard her call out my name.

It was a few long minutes later before we came back to our senses. I’d rolled her to my side, holding her close as we got control of our breathing.

“Are you okay?” I asked, brushing back a strand of her hair. Just once. How the fuck was I going to walk away from her? From this? I’d never lost control like that before, never needed someone more than I’d wanted them. Never lost myself in someone else. How could I let her out of this bed without taking her every way I’d imagined, especially knowing how sweet she was? How responsive?

“I’m more than okay.” She smiled over at me, her eyes hazy with satisfaction. “That was incredible.”

“Yeah, it was,” I agreed, kissing her gently.

My entire chest went tight at the idea of letting her walk out, and my dick began to swell again—guess it wasn’t done, either.

“You don’t feel like this is a once-only kind of thing,” she whispered with a smile, shifting her hips.

I groaned. “Savannah.”

“How about instead of once…we say just one night?” she suggested.

She was so beautiful. So perfect. So…everything, and mine for an entire night.

“Yeah. Just one night.” I kissed her deep and surrendered to the pull between us. One night might not be enough, but I’d make it last.

It had to.

10

Savannah

Hendrix’s skin, slick against my own as he thrust home again and again. Sending my mind, my fucking soul into orbit with each expert roll of his hips. And that mouth? I never knew I could be so infatuated with a mouth, or the things one could do with it until he set his on my body.

Four days.

Four days and I could still smell Hendrix on my skin despite multiple showers. And it wasn’t like I was trying to get the scent off of my skin, but every time I got a slight hint of his signature sent—leather and black pepper and just the slightest hint of something floral, I lost my ever-loving mind.

Fell down that beautiful rabbit hole that consisted of everything he’d done to me that night.

And everything I couldn't stop wanting him to do again.

But we made a deal, and I couldn't ask him of any more than what he’d given me. And he sure as hell had given me a lot.

Everything.

He’d given me him.

Warm chills danced down my spine, and I flitted around our apartment in an attempt to outrun my thoughts. I kept my hands busy with tasks of cleaning the already immaculate space to keep myself from texting him.

From asking him for one more kiss.

One more touch.

One more taste.

Addicted. That's what this must feel like.

London wasn't here to help distract me, either, and I'd already tried and failed to study about fifteen times. Every highlighted passage became Hendrix’s fingers grazing over my hips. Every turned page became Hendrix’s lips on the edge of my neck. Every time I had to reread the passage of text became Hendrix sliding home, lighting up my insides with expert flicks and thrusts of his hips.

I groaned out loud, wishing my roommate hadn't chosen this week to check out her new territory in North Carolina.

I shouldn't be that mad. I needed to get used to it. She'd be moving soon. And then I would be left to my own devices.

That knowledge was enough to bring me back down to ground level. The sadness was a welcomed distraction from the heat coursing through my veins, my heartbeat pounding Hendrix Hendrix Hendrix.


Tags: Samantha Whiskey Raleigh Raptors Romance
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