Page 80 of Wild Heart

I went deeper, feeling like I wanted this to go on forever and hating that I was nearing that point of no return while also wanting it to end, so I could start all over again.

One hand slid around the front of her body and dipped down between her legs. I found her clit, applied pressure, and continued to thrust.

Ava was on the edge in no time, and just as I pushed her over, I held both hips in my hands, picked up my pace, and powered toward my own release. Just before I came, I pulled out, wrapped my hand around myself, and spilled my release over her ass.

When I finished, I tucked myself back into my pants, moved to the corner of the room, and pulled a few napkins off the small snack and drink table we had set up in there. The moment I looked back at where I’d left Ava, something squeezed in my chest.

She looked stunning. Her beautiful body was still bent over the table, her face flushed, and the evidence of what we’d just done glistening on her ass and lower back. “If only I had a camera.”

Ava cocked a brow, silently questioning me.

I stayed put, taking her in. “You’re so beautiful.”

Something soft and warm stole over her expression, a sweet smile forming on her face. Fuck, I loved her.

Somehow, I became unstuck, moved toward her, and went about cleaning up the mess I’d left on her.

“So gentle,” she teased.

“Is that a problem?” I asked.

Ava propped her head up in her hand and looked back at me with a twinkle in her eye. “Not at all. It’s just a stark contrast from mere moments ago.”

I shrugged, tossing the napkins into the trash while keeping one hand on Ava. “What did you expect me to do? I’ve gone months without access to your sweet body.” My hand moved down and cupped her between her legs. “Do you know how good your pussy feels?”

She smiled and looked away. For a woman who was never shy, I thought it was adorable.

I dropped my hands to Ava’s underwear, still wrapped around her legs, and slid them up her thighs and over her hips, my hands lingering there on her skin for longer than was necessary. A moment later, she righted herself and fixed her jeans before adjusting the cups of her bra.

She spun around, leaned her hips against the table, and placed her palms on my bare chest. I held her stare, neither of us saying a word.

There was something lingering in the air, though. I knew she could feel it, sense it the same as me.

“We have to talk,” I said.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“There’s a lot to discuss.”

“I know.”

“But I want us to have just a bit longer to enjoy this feeling, so can I take you out for lunch before I take you back to my place?”

Her face twisted with a hint of regret, and my stomach clenched at the sight of it. She told me she was back; she couldn’t run again. I couldn’t go through this.

“I’d love to go for lunch with you, Tate, but I have an appointment this afternoon with my realtor.”

I wasn’t feeling any more reassured. “For what? I thought you moved in.”

“I did. In fact, I was just at the hotel, where I saw Ivy and turned in my room key.”

“So, why are you meeting with your realtor?” I asked.

She swallowed hard. “I guess that’s another thing we need to talk about. Can I tell you at lunch?”

My eyes roamed over her face. “Can you promise me you’re not going to tell me that you’re leaving again?”

“I promise I’m here to stay, Tate.”