All I Am: Drew's Story (This Man #3.5)

“Tell me,” I demand, needing to hear it. Needed confirmation that I wasn’t alone in that room. That I’m not alone in this madness.

“You cared. You were tender through the roughness. Considerate. You made me feel like the world began and ended with me. I didn’t want any of that. But I liked it.”

It wasn’t something I could help. “And why didn’t you want any of those things, Raya?”

She shakes her head, her eyes dull, and I want to roar my frustration. And suddenly scared that my question might erase the shine of her gaze completely, I push my mouth to hers. It’s time for her to forget again, and for now I’m prepared to help her. Just for now, but I make a silent oath to myself. I will find out what this woman’s story is, if it’s the last thing I do.

As soon as our tongues meet, my mind is lost. Reason is lost. Everything is lost. All of it blown away in a breeze of this woman’s breath. She’s crawling up my body in a heartbeat, her hands in my hair, fisting and pulling impatiently. My feet lead me to the bed, urgency blinding me, need pulsing through my veins. I can see nothing, feel nothing, sense nothing, except her. Rules vanish. Sense abandons me. Questions vanish. Craving controls me. And Raya is with me one hundred percent.

I kiss her like I mean it. I relish the contact of our mouths and find a new kind of passion. A passion that’s not part of the process of getting laid, but part of a burning need I’ve never experienced. To be close to a woman. The deep connection of our mouths, the amazing taste of her, the duel of our tongues—soft and slow, but still battling. This kiss is everything.

My hands fight to get her naked while she reciprocates, our hands and arms getting all tangled up in the urgency to get our clothes off. She tries to lift my shirt over my head without unfastening all of the buttons, and my head gets all caught up in the material. “Fuck,” I curse, yanking at the sides, the buttons popping off.

I take a breath to find some reason, to find the patience to get naked without trashing my entire suit. But there is no reason.

Raya laughs as I tear my trousers open and she virtually rips them down my legs, taking my boxers, socks and shoes with them. And once we’re both bare, she reaches for my cock, the pad of her thumb massaging over the silver ring pierced through the head. I swallow repeatedly, pushing her back down to the bed. Her body landing on the mattress makes her scent waft up from the bedding, hitting my nose and heightening my senses.

Her legs spread, and I fall between her thighs, taking her mouth. The tip of my cock skims her entrance, and the sensation sends me crazy, my kiss hardening. With a quick shift of my hips, I’m inside her, ramming forward with urgency.

“Fuck,” I bark into her mouth, growling through my moan, falling to pieces above her when her hips roll up and take me completely.

I’m forced to take a moment, my body stilling, but my tongue continues to explore. Raya’s long legs curl around my hips, and she breaks our kiss, arching and throwing her head back. My mouth slides down to her neck, biting and sucking, desperate for more of her. I’m so snug inside of her that even the slightest of movements feels so sensitive as her busy hands roam my back. This. This feels like something in me has been missing for too long.

As I circle my tongue over her throat, I brace myself for the first stroke, easing my cock from her warmth. Raya’s moan forces me away from her neck, her arms tossed back on the pillow searching for something to hold. Reaching up, I lay my hands in hers and let her grip me with an unthinkable force, her fingers laced through mine. Glazed eyes watch me as I hold myself at her opening, fighting the magnetic pull trying to haul me back inside.

She’s panting, her flawless skin glowing, her eyes kicking off sparks. “How did this happen?”

How? She bewitches me, that’s how. “Stop questioning it.” I sink back into her pussy, blind drunk on her, and she jacks up off the bed, her hands squeezing mine firmer still. One grind of my hips has her moaning. Two has her shaking. Three has her screaming to the ceiling.

Sealing our mouths, I allow my body’s demand to take over. And it wants to flow easily in and out of her, each withdrawal measured, each advance accurate. Each moan deafening. Each kiss mind-blanking.

What is this madness? Every stroke is painful in its intensity, but it hurts so fucking good. Eyes open, I kiss her softly, matching my painstaking pace, watching her climax building in the darkening of her eyes. I don’t need to ask if she’s ready. There are too many signs—her tensing muscles, those eyes so wild, her skin wet with sweat, the force of her hands in mine, the pull of her warm, slick pussy hauling me in deeper and deeper.

I stare down at her dazed face, keeping the rhythm consistent, unwilling to lose the incredible sight of her release. “Come,” I order, and she does, her face contorting with pleasure as she yells, her body shaking against me violently.

The vision alone drags me into the depths of indulgence like I’ve never experienced before in my life, my body rolling, my cock surging, my jaw aching with tension as I fight my way through it. I gasp, my head hanging as the room spins around me, distorting everything.

Everything except her face. She’s struggling for breath, staring up at me in wonder. “I’m not looking for a relationship.” Her words are solid, if a little from left field.

I nod, accepting. “Neither am I.”

She smiles, and the sight is dizzying. “So, Mr. Davies, how much is my house worth?”

“I haven’t got a fucking clue,” I admit. I took nothing in. Only her.

She laughs, her head thrown back. Her move offers up a neck that no man could ignore. My mouth drops and kisses the taut flesh, all the way up to her chin, and her hands come around to my back, pulling me down. She sustains my weight, and as soon as I’m settled, my mind spirals out of control trying to process what the hell just happened. Truth is, I haven’t got a fucking clue about that either. An instinct I never knew I had just captured me completely and took me way off course, and I’m at a loss for what that means. I was compelled to be soft. Gentle. Loving?

I suddenly feel suffocated rather than cozy with my face burrowed against her neck. Did I just make love to a woman? The question should have me jumping off the bed in a panic, yet I can’t bring myself to lose the warmth of her body against mine. Even the simple task of pulling away takes too much willpower.

She looks up at me, worried. “You all right?”