Found in You (Page 15)

Found in You (Fixed #2)(15)
Author: Laurelin Paige

“Holy, f**k, Hudson,” I repeated his earlier words as I took his dick in my hand. “Talk about sinful.” Still gripping him in my hand, I knelt before him, nudging his legs wider for me to fit in between them.

Leaning forward, I rubbed my br**sts along his bare cock.

He let out a heavy breath, and I did it again, running my fingernails along his chest, digging through his shirt. His eyes were pinned to my tits as I stroked his penis between them.

“You’re so f**king beautiful, Alayna.” His voice grated, like he was losing control. “So f**king beautiful.”

“So are you.” This time I maneuvered my hands under his shirt to claw at his skin as I rubbed my tits along his throbbing cock. “Do you like f**king my tits?”

“I love anything you do to me.”

“Is that so?” I sat back on my haunches and leaned down to run my tongue up the length of his shaft.

He growled—actually growled—and I shivered at the sound.

But despite how his sounds and reactions made me completely weak and dizzy, I suddenly felt powerful. There was nothing in the world that I could imagine that would be strong enough to cause Hudson Pierce to relinquish his authority—nothing in the universe that could make him yield to anyone.

Yet here he was giving in to me.

Yes, I felt very powerful.

I licked again up the other side of him then swirled my tongue across his head as I pumped him once with my hand.

He jerked in the chair, his fingers gripping the arms. “Jesus, yes.”

I wanted his hands on me, him grasping my hair. But I knew, as he did, that if he touched me, he’d take over. He’d run the show. His lack of contact was a gift, and I took it graciously. Greedily.

Moving one hand to fondle his balls, I placed my lips over his crown and slid my mouth over his soft, stone cock, my hand grasping the length of him I couldn’t fit inside. Up and down I pumped him, sucking him off with an insatiable passion.

I felt his thighs tense around me and I knew he was close.

“Alayna, slow down,” he pleaded through gritted teeth.

I ignored his request, continuing to stroke and suck him toward his orgasm.

“Alayna!” His hands flew to my shoulders.

Next thing I knew, I was on the floor, Hudson hovering over me as he tore at my thong, ripping the flimsy thing off of me. Then he was inside me, filling me, stretching me, thrusting into me with such force I thought he might rip me apart.

And, god, he felt good. So goddamn good.

“You feel amazing, Alayna,” he said as he drove into me, his face sweaty and pinched with the effort. “I was about to come in your mouth.”

“That would have been fine.” I would have sucked him dry and licked him clean.

“But I much prefer coming in your tight cunt.” His jabs slowed as I clenched around him, constricting his movement. “Fuck, I’m coming now.”

I groaned with him as his cl**ax pressed him deeper into me, as my own heightened arousal took me to a gentle release behind him. It wasn’t the earth-shattering variety of orgasm that I’d grown accustomed to having with Hudson, and somehow that made it even sweeter, more savory.

When he’d emptied himself completely, Hudson fell to his back beside me and took in several deep, ragged breaths. “I apologize for that.”

I sat up on my elbows and cast him a questioning glance. I could recall very few times he’d apologized to anyone for anything. Certainly not for sex.

“I got carried away. I didn’t give you the attention you deserved.”

Laughing, I rolled to lie across his chest. “I love it when you get carried away. You rarely let yourself go. It’s a nice change. Not to mention, it’s hot.”

Hudson’s chest rose as he chortled—another sound I heard infrequently from him—and he draped an arm over my back.

I propped myself up on my arm. “Someday, though, you’re going to let me suck you off until you finish.”

“You know I love to come buried inside you.”

“God, I do, too.” I smiled, dreamily. “But I’d also love to have you come in my mouth. I’m craving it, actually.”

His arm tightened around me. “Stay tonight.”

It wasn’t a question or even an invitation. It was a declaration that I would stay, and of course I would. But I responded anyway. “Okay.”

Where else would I want to be?


Hudson had missed his usual morning workout since we’d slept in that morning. Though I was convinced we’d worked out enough in the bedroom—and the kitchen and the dining room—he decided to hit the penthouse gym. Wanting to be near, I joined him.

The gym was in the back of the apartment, next to the master bedroom, and was equipped with a treadmill, elliptical trainer, rowing machine and a weight system. I changed into a sports bra and shorts from my closet and claimed the treadmill. Hudson started out on the elliptical and moved to the weights for the bulk of his workout.

I’d always been a fairly good runner, usually pounding Central Park or the blocks from the club to my apartment, but running with the sight of Hudson’s calves and arms flexing as he worked the elliptical was quite a feat, even for me. Admittedly, I tripped a couple of times.

After exercising, we showered and settled in the bedroom, Hudson donning a pair of boxers while I snagged one of his t-shirts to wear with a pair of panties. Hudson brought in his laptop to sort through some business emails, and I curled up with a book from the day’s delivery. There were several Hudson had got that I hadn’t read yet but were on the list of greatest books of all time that I was working through.

When I’d been reading long enough to get lost in the first few chapters of my book, I suddenly became aware of stillness next to me. Hudson was no longer typing. I looked up and found he was watching me.

Goose bumps marched down my arms. “What?”

“You look good in my t-shirt.”

“I know.”

His lips curled into a sexy smile. “You look better without it.”

I laughed.

He lifted his chin toward my book. “What did you choose to read?”

I held the book up for him to see the cover.

“The Talented Mr. Ripley. Interesting. A book about a true sociopath.”

An unexpected chill ran through me. Hudson’s mother had told me that he was a sociopath—unable to feel empathy or love, detached and self-absorbed. I disagreed vehemently. I’d seen otherwise. Hudson loved and cared for me like no one in my life had.