Home > Easy with You (With Me in Seattle #8.5)(18)

Easy with You (With Me in Seattle #8.5)(18)
Author: Kristen Proby

It’s pure heaven.

“Tell me I can stay,” he whispers against my lips.

“What about the investigation?”

“We’re done for the night.”

“You can stay,” I reply. He smiles and nibbles his way down my neck. His hands slip under my shirt and work it up over my head, then he discards my bra. “You’re beautiful.”

I smile shyly as he pulls a nipple into his mouth and lazily teases it, blows on it, then sucks some more. I tug his shirt up impatiently, getting caught up under his arms. His skin is warm and smooth over strong muscles.

“Can we take this off?” I ask. He sits up and in one fluid motion, pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside, then covers me again. He unfastens my jeans and slips his hand inside while his mouth travels down my torso, making me shimmy and squirm.

The things this man does with his mouth are insane.

His fingertips find my sweet spot and my hips surge up off the bed as electricity shoots through my body, sending fire along every nerve.

“God, you’re so responsive. Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of your sweet little body?”

“Nine months,” I pant with a smile. “Yes, I know exactly how long.”

He chuckles and bites my stomach right next to my navel. “You’ve been in my dreams for months. I wake up aching for you.”

Is it possible to come from words alone?

“Asher, I need you.”

“I’m right here, baby.”

“Need you inside me.” I bury my fingers in his hair and hold on tight as his mouth continues the journey around my torso, along my ribs, under my breasts.

Who knew that the spot under my breasts was so fucking sensitive?

He’s pulling my jeans down my legs, effortlessly, and kissing his way down to my hip.

“Trust me, I’m about to be inside you. God, you smell good.”

“I don’t wear perfume.”

He grins up at me knowingly. Naughtily. God, I want to devour him.

“Not that kind of smell, Delila.” He sniffs against my hip. “You smell like you want me to make love to you.”

“I so want you to make love to me.”

He growls as he makes quick work of sliding off his jeans, slips on protection, and covers me. He holds me tenderly, his forearms under my shoulders. His pelvis is cradled in mine, and he thrusts slowly back and forth, sliding his cock in my folds, hitting my clit each time.

“Oh my God,” I whisper.

He kisses my lips as he pulls his hips back, and suddenly the tip is at my entrance, pushing inside. I’d forgotten how big he is.

“We’ll take it easy,” he assures me, watching me carefully. “God, you’re so tight.”

“Or you’re big,” I reply breathlessly, loving the way he feels as he eases inside me. “You feel so damn good.”

“You’re amazing.” He stops when he’s buried inside me completely and leans his forehead against mine. “So fucking amazing.”

I clench around him and smile when he groans.

“God, don’t do that.”

I do it again.

“Lila, this won’t last.”

“We have all night, Lieutenant,” I reply and clench again, circling my hips. “I’m right here. Let go.”

His eyes shoot open, hot and intense, and he begins to move in long, steady, measured strokes, hitting every delicious nerve ending inside me, until I’m right there with him, ready to come out of my skin.

“Gonna come,” I whisper.

“With me,” he replies hoarsely. He grips my ass in one hand, tilting me up to meet him fully, and we come apart, crying out, clinging to each other.

“Amazing,” he whispers and kisses my lips softly.

So fucking amazing.

* * * *

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he whispers against my ear, then kisses me there. He’s spooned up behind me, his arms around me, holding me tight.

“Maybe I am,” I reply with a grin.

“I can hear your wheels turning,” he says and nudges me onto my back so he can see my face. He rests his hand on my belly and kisses my nose. “Talk to me.”

“I’m—” I look to the ceiling, searching for my words.

“Sated? Impressed with my manliness? Ready to come again?”

“Confused,” I reply with a sigh. “And impressed with your manliness.”

“What are you confused about?”

I turn and hide my face in his chest, enjoying the way the light dusting of hair feels against my skin, but he cups my cheek in his hand and guides me back to look me in the eyes.

“What are you confused about, sweetheart?”

“How can I be this happy with you when there is a maniac out there killing my students, and he has some kind of crazy fixation on me? Does it make me a selfish person?”

“No.”

“We’re having sex—”

“Lila, it’s not selfish. We’re living our lives while we try to figure the rest of it out. We haven’t forgotten it.”

“I’m never going to forget it,” I whisper.

“No,” he agrees quietly and kisses my forehead. “You won’t.”

“How do you do this? Every day?” I hold on to him more tightly as I realize just how dangerous his job is. “Why do you do it?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a cop,” he replies.

   
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