Page 129 of All the Ugly Things
I was given no time to ask what he meant because he moved his arms and I was in the air, kissing him, held like a bride and carried down the hall.
I’d been in his bedroom over the last several weeks. I’d slept in it. I knew the mirror would catch our reflection and I knew he needed blinds to block out the early morning sun.
I knew his bed was bigger than mine and when he pressed a knee to it and sank into the softness, I most definitely knew this would be a night I would never forget.
He didn’t let me go until my head rested on pillows and he’d yanked down the comforter and sheets, settling me on the mattress like the world’s most breakable treasure.
My hands stayed on his cheeks, that strong jaw covered with scruff as he kissed me softly, tenderly. He stroked every single flame I carried inside my body and many more I never knew I possessed.
He brought this out of me, thiswild needI never understood even when I tried to learn from romance books.
“You can tell me to stop at any time,” he muttered, leaving my mouth to find my jaw, my throat, that tiny place behind my ear that made my hips press against him.
Even with my trembling hands alight with nerves and need as I ran them down his back, there was no way I was stopping this.
“I won’t.”
He glanced at me, hair a mess, onyx eyes setting me on fire with the mixture of desire and conflict swirling in them.
I leaned up and pulled him to me. A pained expression danced across his features right before he closed his eyes and kissed me back.
He trailed his kisses all over me, humming when he brought forth a reaction from me. That hand at my waistband pushed down, sliding cotton down my thighs until he pulled back enough to remove them all. He still wore his own plaid pants and I waited, gasping up at him while he skimmed the length of my body and stalled on my most intimate places. Despite my nerves, I showed it all to him, not covering myself while his hands went to his waist and then his pants were on the floor with mine.
He crawled back up the bed, hands sliding up my legs, goose bumps pebbling in this wake of his gentle movements while he spread my legs further and settled a hand there.
Cupping me.
Hudson leaned forward, gave me his weight while bracing some of it on his elbow to my side. “I’ll go slow.”
“Don’t.” I pressed into his palm and stared up at him. “I want you.”
“You undo me,” he said and then his mouth fell to my chest, to my breasts while his fingers below began to work a different rhythm.
And… oh… it was so good. So intense. Pleasured heated my veins at his gentle, but persistent ministrations. Everything inside me felt like a ball of tightly coiled wiring, ready to burst. Rational thought turned to frenzied noises, while he took his time, sliding fingers against my opening and nerves above.
And then there was pressure. A finger. Slowing pressing into me that made me cling to his shoulders and his hair, finding purchase in wherever I could.
He kissed me then, pressing another finger inside of me, sliding his tongue into my mouth at the same time he began to move his hand, catching my cries and gasps.
“If it’s too much…”
“More,” I demanded. “Please.”
He paused for a moment, worked me with his fingers until that dam was so close to bursting my body racked with the waves of it.
“Open your legs wider,” he whispered against my mouth.
I was so inexperienced.
Could have felt nerves. Instead, it was pure desire. Pure trust in this man who’d worked so hard to earn it from me, I did it without thought until I felt him there, waiting.
Reaching for something next to his bed and coming back with a foil packet he tore with his teeth, grinning down at me. “Next time, you’ll do this for me. Learn the feel of me but right now I need you too much.”
A shiver rolled through me at his words. The ferocity in them.He needed me.
Hudson Valentine. This man who could have anyoneneededme.
I nodded, waited while he covered himself and bit my bottom lip as I felt him at my entrance.
