Fixed on You (Page 23)

Fixed on You (Fixed #1)(23)
Author: Laurelin Paige

“Lean on your elbows.” I did and he bent one leg up then the other, anchoring my heels on the edge of the bed, my thighs open. He sighed as he slid his hands up the inside of my legs. “You’re so f**king sexy like this. All spread out for me.” My sex clenched and he smiled, running his fingers down my slit. “You want me. Look how your pretty pu**y throbs.”

No one had ever talked to me like that—so raw and crude. It was incredibly hot and savage and combined with the repeated tease of his fingers brushing across my pulsing bud, it wouldn’t take much to bring me to convulsions. As soon as his tongue replaced his fingers, grazing me with velvet licks, I unraveled, throwing my head back to let out a ragged cry.

“Again,” he demanded gruffly, plunging three fingers deep inside me. My hands curled into the bedspread, not sure I could take another, wanting even more than his fingers. He stroked me, rubbing the inside of my walls as he returned his mouth to suck on my clit. When I’d reached the brink of cl**ax again, shuddering under the building tension, he stretched his other hand up to my breast and tugged at my nipple with his fingers. I came violently, thrashing against the bed, my sex rippling around his digits.

As I lay shaking, I was vaguely aware of Hudson removing his clothing. I heard the drawer of the nightstand open and close and the rip of a condom foil. He shifted me backward on the bed, giving himself space to crawl over me. Then he settled between my legs, his hot staff pressing at my quivering entrance.

“You’re ready for me,” he said, leaning his weight on his forearms. He aligned his erection with my opening and entered me partway. “Jesus, Alayna,” he hissed. “You feel so goddamn good.”

I gasped as he invaded me. He was so big. Not sure if he would fit, I tensed, knowing that I had to relax if I had any hope of accommodating him. He adjusted my leg and that’s what I needed. I opened to him and he sunk deeper, nestling in my tight channel.

I couldn’t remember ever having felt so completely filled, not only because of his girth, but because of the way his eyes pierced mine as he stretched and moved within me. He circled his h*ps nudging his tip forward. “So good.”

He pulled out slowly, almost the entire length of his cock, and I bemoaned the emptiness left behind. Then he flexed his h*ps and rammed inside me with a fierce stroke.

I cried out and he echoed with a low grumble of desire. He pressed his chest against me and captured my mouth, kissing me roughly with my taste on his lips as he pounded into me.

Even though he’d already taken care of me—twice—I was desperate for him to bring me to another orgasm. I rocked against him, meeting each grinding pulse of his hips, moaning and panting as I took each one of his blunt drives.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Hudson grunted as he continued his assault.

I obeyed, having forgotten his earlier wish for me to do so. My heels hit against the back of his thighs, digging into him as he moved in and out of me, adding an additional level of eroticism. Lifting my legs also opened me further, and his c**k bore deeper into me, hitting a spot within that ignited at each stroke.

My orgasm built from there, my body tightening and clenching and contracting around Hudson’s pummeling thrusts. “I’m going to come,” I groaned, already trembling.

“Yes,” Hudson cried. “Yes, come, Alayna.” My cl**ax crashed through me, brought to a head by his coaxing. Seconds later, his own body tensed and jerked, releasing into me long and hard, my name spilling from his lips.

He fell onto my quaking body, our chests rising and falling in tandem. His head buried into the crook of my neck as I pulled my fingers through his sweat-dampened hair.

“I knew sex with you would be like that,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “Powerful and intense and f**king incredible. I knew it.”

I swallowed, forcing down any emotion that threatened to show itself except for satiation. “Me, too.”

Chapter Nine

I must have dozed. When I woke, Hudson stood over me, pulling a comforter over my na**d body.

“Sleep, precious,” he said as I struggled to sit up. He’d put on a pair of sweats, but he still smelled like sex. My belly tightened in response to his scent. Would my lust for Hudson never be satisfied?

He brushed a kiss on my forehead. “I need to order dinner. Chinese okay?”

I stretched. “Sounds delicious.”

“I’ll call it in.”

I watched his gorgeous backside as he left the bedroom, luxuriating in what was left of my post-sex high. God, I felt good. I hadn’t been f**ked like that in…well, ever. The care and attention Hudson delivered as a lover left little to be desired. Of course, that made me want him. Again.

I tugged the comforter tighter around me, an uneasy feeling creeping over me. I tried to dissect its source. The fact was I felt comfortable—too comfortable. My number one rule in avoiding unhealthy attachments was to avoid attachments in general. Getting comfortable was too close to attached. And there was no way I could get attached to Hudson.

A tenuous ball of anxiety began forming in my belly. I could stay through dinner, I decided, but I needed to be dressed and sitting at a table. And then, after the night was over, Hudson and I had to keep our relationship to business only.

Throwing off the blanket, I began to gather my clothes. I found my panties and slipped them on then reached for my bra.

“You’re getting dressed?”

I jumped. Hudson was standing in the doorway, watching me, carrying his shirt and tie that he’d—um, we’d—discarded earlier in the main room. Suddenly feeling awkward at my near nakedness, I crossed my arms over my chest.

He tossed his clothes on top of the laundry basket then crossed his own arms. Hudson didn’t appear to be hiding as I was, but looked like he meant to scold me. He raised a brow. “Are you in a hurry to leave?”

I shivered. His gaze and my lack of clothing made it hard to remember why I’d wanted to go. I looked away. He probably wanted me gone soon anyway, having already gotten what he wanted. We didn’t have to pretend otherwise. “Guys don’t usually want me to hang around after sex.”

“That statement brings up so many issues for discussion that I don’t know where to begin.” He stepped toward me. “What is wrong with men to not…?” He shook his head. “Alayna, please don’t group me with other guys you know. I’d like to think I’m not like most of them. And I don’t want to know or think about you ha**ng s*x with other men. I don’t share.”