Free Season of Second Chances by Brighton Walsh Page A

gave him, he knew she understood what he was asking. That he didn’t mean to hold her like he had the night before. That he wanted to feel her—every inch of her—pressed naked against him. When she gave a slight nod of her head, he was worried his knees would buckle right there.
    Without giving her the opportunity to change her mind, he bent down, pressing his lips to hers as he gripped her ass and lifted her against him. Immediately, she wrapped her legs around his hips, settling perfectly in his arms. As he walked them to his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind them, she held his face, kissing him so softly, almost hesitantly. He nipped at her lips, sweeping his tongue into her mouth just to taste her.
    Once they were in front of his bed, he set her down before leisurely removing each piece of her clothing, his lips tracking the skin he uncovered. While he tried to go slow, to savor every second, she seemed to want to rid him of his clothes in a frenzy. He helped her along, peeling off his sweater and jeans, followed by his boxer briefs. Her hands spread wide against his chest, her eyes taking in every naked inch of him. When she reached down to grip his cock, he nearly came undone.
    “Jesus, Claire.” He groaned, closing his eyes and admitting in a soft rumble, “I’ve missed your hands on me, baby.”
    She squeezed his shaft in response, and he bent to take her nipple in his mouth, smiling as she did exactly what he knew she would. Her grip slackened, her head tipping back, a low moan coming from her lips. Switching sides, he traced the other tight peak with his tongue before engulfing it. While she was distracted, he pushed her back until she collapsed on the bed.
    He needed this, and from the way she was clutching at him, trying to touch as much of him as she could, she did too. The thought that this might be his last time ever inside her sat heavily in his gut. If that was the case, he was going to make this last all damn night. He worked his way down her body, kissing and licking and nipping as he went. He didn’t listen as she protested when he spread her thighs wide with his shoulders then his hands, pressing her open for him.
    She tugged at his hair, trying to pull him up. “I just want you inside me. I don’t need it.”
    “ I need it. Let me.” He kissed the crease between her thigh and her pussy, traced his tongue against her smooth outer lips. And then when he couldn’t stand it anymore, he swept his tongue through her slit and tried to get lost in the taste of her so he wouldn’t think about what tomorrow would bring.
    She nearly shot off the bed when he focused his attention on her clit. And her reaction to that little swipe of his tongue proved to him that regardless of what sexual encounters she’d had since they split, at least no one had known the pleasure of feeling her come in their mouth. He hummed against her pussy, his hands gripping the outside of her thighs as he coaxed her orgasm from her. When she broke, her fingers buried deep in his hair as he swirled his tongue over her sweet spot, he felt like a fucking God for making her turn her head into the pillow to muffle the loud sounds of her climax.
    When she was pliant, sated, he crawled up her body, then sat back against the headboard before pulling her astride him. He needed to see her like this—watch her breasts swaying inches from his face, get lost in the sight of his cock disappearing inside her. With his fingers gripping the back of her head, his thumb running along her cheek, he pulled her to him. She kissed him with the same sort of unrestrained hunger he felt all the way to his bones. He wanted to take her hard and fast, fuck her straight into the mattress, have her on her knees, hanging on to the headboard as he pounded into her from behind.
    Instead, he gripped her hip and guided her to take him inside slowly. With her forehead resting against his, they both watched as she sank down, taking every inch of him.