Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [71]
He said nothing more as he thrust deep into her—only their hot moans filled the silence—and she knew they both understood that his last words had been true. She liked the notion of being watched. He’d taught her to. He felt it with her. And it enhanced every hard drive of his length into her softness until finally he said, “God, baby, I’m gonna come,” then filled her in a whole different way.
A moment later, still inside her with his arms wrapped warm around her waist, he said something she’d never imagined Braden Stone would say. “I fucked up.”
She turned her head to look at him. “What?”
Uncharacteristic guilt shrouded his face. “I didn’t give you an orgasm.”
She blinked, then smiled. “Believe it or not, I’m not in it just for the orgasm.”
He looked at her as if she’d just announced she was from Mars.
“Seriously,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, I love ’em—but I don’t have to have them every time. It feels good enough just to have your perfect cock in me, just to have you fuck me so thoroughly.”
Withdrawing, he turned her in his arms, his eyes lighting with what looked like awe. “Have I mentioned that you’re incredible?” He kissed her forehead, and she feared she might crumble beneath the weight of the emotion that filled her.
Stop. Don’t feel this. Don’t let yourself. Only madness that way lies.
But instead of answering him, of coming up with some flip remark that would ease the tension in her heart, she simply responded by kissing him, another of those soul-searing kisses that they’d shared from the beginning, those kisses that were almost as good as sex itself.
“Mmm,” he sighed when it ended, their foreheads pressed together. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Make me crazy with just a kiss. All the stuff we’ve done, and still your kisses make me feel like I’m sixteen.”
It was like a starburst inside her to know he felt it, too—all that magic, all that power, just from a kiss. She lifted her mouth back to his, wishing she could tell him everything she felt, how much she’d loved his kisses from the very first moment he’d climbed into bed with her, how changed and new he made her feel. But she stopped herself—again—and just teased him. “Guess I’m just that good.”
He chuckled softly. “That you are, snowflake.”
Then he began looking around them, at the mantle of white across the backyard and the hillside below.
Laura peeked over her shoulder, in case there was something she was missing, but saw only the glitter of the sun on the pristine, untouched snow.
“Since we’re out here,” he said, “why don’t we play in the snow for a little while?”
She laughed, thinking he was getting relentless about keeping her from her work. “Define play.”
He tilted his head, looking deadly serious. “I build a killer snowman.”
Laura smiled. She hadn’t made a snowman since she was a young girl. As simple as it sounded, the idea appealed immensely. Only . . . “We don’t have on snow pants.”
Braden did a dramatic eye roll, leaning his head back. “You’re right—it would be a tragedy of epic proportions if we actually built a snowman without snow pants.”
She grinned at his sarcasm, conceding. “We will get wet, though. And cold.”
“I own towels, snowflake. And blankets. And a fireplace. I promise it’ll all be okay,” he added with an indulgent wink.
By the time they were done, they were both soaked and cold, but to show for their efforts, they had a perfect three-tiered snowman complete with scarf, wool cap, and carrot nose, all nabbed from inside, and eyes of dark gray stones dug from beneath the snow in the landscaping by the front porch. The only consolation Braden had made to her worries over their attire was ski gloves, which he’d retrieved from the closet by the front door, and he’d also grabbed one of his ski caps for Laura.
Upon coming inside, they both stripped down,