Nate

Page 70

Love?

“Uh…”

Love?!

Blaise sighed on his end. “Oh, boy. That’s situation number one to handle. What do you want? You need to figure that out. When you do, either leave the jar alone or get in there and start cleaning.”

“You are—”

Blaise turned from the phone. “What am I?”

“I don’t know, but give me the phone back. Also, I love you. A lot. Also, I don’t expect to be treated like a princess.”

“I’m aware. That’s why I fell fucking hard for you, and you love me a lot because I make sure your jar is cleaned, babe.” Blaise was sounding smug. “Peace out, Nathaniel. Listen to me. I know my shit when it comes to women.”

Aspen was back on the phone, and she rumbled, “I hate to give him some credit, but he’s not wrong. It does sound like you need to know where you are sitting and then go from there.”

We talked a bit more, but the meat of the phone call was done. And I wasn’t sure if I had been helped or not. I needed to know what I wanted.

Got it.

I could do that.

But…

What did I want?

46

Quincey

I woke to kisses on my back.

Nate’s hand moved the blanket off me.

I was rolled away from him, half on my stomach, and I felt him kiss down my neck.

My shoulders.

He tugged my tank up and rolled it off my head, then went back and began kissing down my spine.

Pleasure was pulsing through my body.

I shivered, a good shiver and my insides were melting into one giant throb kind of shiver. I needed him. I wanted him.

I began to roll toward him because I was going to have him.

He held me down. “No. Let me do this.”

“What?”

But my breath hitched because I liked this. A lot.

I was excited about this.

But I growled because I wanted him, even if he was the one to start this.

He moved my underwear down, and then his mouth was there, and I was gasping.

“Nate!”

I heard and felt him chuckle at the same time.

It was sending me reeling.

His lips moved, searching me, and he was holding my hips in his hands. He was keeping me anchored for him.

Oh.

My.

God.

I couldn’t—I gasped when his tongue hit deep, and I grabbed for the bed to keep myself in place.

I didn’t need to worry. His hold on my hips was strong. He was holding me exactly where he wanted, and as a silent scream worked up through my throat, he angled my hips higher, and then I felt him line up behind me.

He lay almost over me, moving and grabbing my wrists in both hands, then he thrust in.

It was intense.

It was exhilarating.

I couldn’t stop writhing in place, moving with him, but he held me still. This was all him as he pounded me out.

In. Out.

Deep.

Hard.

He was working me, bringing me to the edge.

I felt his mouth on my neck again. He was tasting me, then he slid around, and I turned. I needed to taste him back. Badly.

His mouth found mine, and he started going faster.

“Nate,” I breathed as his tongue slid inside.

His hands let go of my wrists and moved back to my hips. He flexed, his fingers digging into my skin, then he reared back. He paused and thrust back inside. He was almost slamming into me.

I loved it.

“Harder.” I gasped.

He paused. His hands squeezed my ass now. “You sure?”

“Yes. God, yes.”

I was panting, wanting to twist around to him, knowing I couldn’t, knowing he needed this, but dammit, I liked rough sex. I wanted it even harder.

He pounded into me, gripping my ass as he bent over me. I arched up, pushing back from the headboard, and he gripped me around the neck. He angled my head, his mouth finding mine, and his tongue swept inside, keeping in rhythm with his thrusts.

He growled. “You gotta come, Q.”

Q.

My climax tore through me, almost snapping me in two, and I cried out, folding over.

The waves pulsated through my whole body, making me feel like I had an entire other heartbeat for a moment. It was so strong.

Once I’d come down, I felt Nate pushing, digging deep, deeper, and then he stiffened over me, his own release sending a whole new wave of pleasure coursing through me.

God.

That was—holy fuck.

We both collapsed, with Nate half on top of me.

He started to move off me, but I snaked a hand out, grabbing him. “No. Stay.”

I liked his weight.

Who was I kidding? I loved his weight.

I loved this.

I felt connected to him in ways that I never knew was possible.

And he didn’t love me back.

No. I pushed that thought away. It didn’t matter.

He was here. I was here. We were both together.

Now.

Keyword.

Now, not later.

I’d worry about later later.

I pushed all those negative and self-sabotaging doubts out of my mind or to the back of my mind.

I needed him again, and I moved, groaning from the effort but also feeling frenzied at the same time.

Nate lifted his head, his eyes finding mine. He smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

He stated, “I’m cleaning your jar.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” He moved in, placing a kiss to my cheek and then finding my mouth again. “I called you Q.”

I smiled. “You called me Q.”

Q!

I loved it.

I whispered, “Keep calling me Q, and you can do that any time you want.”

He nodded, his mouth falling and he was tasting my throat. “Jesus. I think I’m addicted to your body.”

A full-body shiver wracked through me.

“You’re not alone.”

I was running my hand over his shoulders, his arms, his stomach, his muscles, and I then I dipped down and found him. My hand wrapped around him, and he closed his eyes, falling back as I showed him how much I enjoyed how he woke me up.

It wasn’t long before I moved over, straddling him, and then we were moving all over again.

This time, I rode him. Hard.

47

Quincey

 

 

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