Page 59 of Wrecked By You
Putting me and my feelings ahead of her own.
I’d done nothing to deserve her benevolence, yet she freely gave it to me anyway.
“Kiss me,” she murmured, twisting to look over her shoulder, her eyes hooded and heavy with lust.
The last thread of my resolve snapped. I ran my palm down the smooth skin of her back until I reached the curve of her ass. Sliding one hand over her abdomen, I angled her head with my other hand, allowing my mouth to take hers. Our tongues dueled until she surrendered to me, permitting me to take back the control I’d loaned to her. I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock. I closed my hand around my shaft. A deep, husky groan rumbled through my chest.
Breaking our kiss, I bent my knees, lined up the head of my cock, and thrust inside her. She snatched a breath, pushing back into me.
God. So good. So fucking good.
I thrust again until I was seated to the root, and then I stopped. Our eyes met in the mirror, hers deep pools of emotion I didn’t deserve and hadn’t earned. Sex for me was a physical release, not an emotional connection. But with Ella, there was a shifting inside my chest, a yearning for something deeper. Somethingmore.
I ran my nose along her neck, breathing in the faint scent of her perfume. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” She lifted her hand and cupped the back of my neck. “More than okay.”
That was it. The moment when I lost control. I gripped her hips and pounded into her. Over and over and over until my vision blurred, my balls tightened, and all I could feel was Ella’s walls sheathing my cock, her snatched breaths filling my chest, her beautiful face flushed, and her eyes glossy.
“God, Ella. Fuck.” I released one of her hips, reaching around her to play with her clit. I wasn’t so far gone that I thought only of my own pleasure, although it was a close-run thing. I refused to come until she had. But Christ, I hoped it didn’t take long.
“Are you there?” I asked as her walls rippled around my dick.
“Almost. God. Faster. Yes, that’s it. Right there. Don’t stop. God, don’t stop.”
She exploded, her clit vibrating beneath my thumb, her body twitching as an orgasm charged through her.
“God, Johannes, yes!”
Her cry made me feel like a fucking king. I let go, emptying inside her. I couldn’t stop coming. My climax went on and on and on until I was sure I’d lose consciousness if it didn’t stop soon.
The scent of raw sex enveloped me as I slowly came down from the kind of erotic high I’d never thought I’d experience again. I sought out Ella’s flushed face in the mirror, an unbidden smile stretching across my face, one I hardly recognized yet couldn’t stop from forming. I placed a kiss on her shoulder as I pulled out of her and wrapped my arms around her waist, tighter and tighter, loath to let her go.
“Thank you,” I whispered, overcome with emotions I didn’t have names for.
She turned in my arms, capturing my face in her hands. “No. Thank you. For showing me a piece of you.”
Chapter20
Ella
Intimacy is a dangerous game
for people like us.
Weary yet fulfilled,I collapsed onto the softest, comfiest bed I’d ever lain on. Johannes crawled into the space beside me, his all-black attire in direct contrast to my pale nakedness. My curiosity was off the charts, but no matter how much intimacy we’d shared, I suspected that if I even tentatively broached the subject of why he only had sex from behind, or his reasons for remaining fully clothed during the act, he’d clam up and we’d lose the tenuous connection we’d built. I wasn’t ready to let him go yet. Not even close.
This taciturn, complicated man sprawled beside me carried so much pain within him. Of that I was a hundred percent certain. But if I stood a chance of winning his trust, I had to do that through my actions, by showing him I was someone he could confide in, when he was ready, and not before. Badgering him for answers would have the opposite effect.
Besides, who was I to talk? I had more secrets than the CIA, yet he hadn’t pressured me to spill all the gory details.
Should I tell him everything?
No.
I wasn’t ready, and neither was he. To hear my story, or to share his own.
And what if he called me on my stupidity and naivety for being so blind about Mateo’s true colors? I already thought those awful things about myself. I didn’t need someone pointing out my biggest flaws and making it obvious that what I thought of as my worst traits were, in fact, real.