Close Contact (Clarke Brothers Book 3) by Christina C. Jones

Author:Christina C. Jones [Jones, Christina C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Warm Hues Creative
Published: 2020-04-16T18:30:00+00:00

4

Kima

I really couldn’t remember peace like this.

Ever.

It was worrisome.

Obviously I understood that worry was a ridiculous reaction to peace, but… it was just a little too good to be true.

Something about this had to be wrong.

Then why does it feel so damn right?

Hell… right seemed like an undervaluing of the way it felt to wake up in Aiden’s arms.

He barely stirred as I turned to him, staring in admiration and wonder at his handsome face.

We had not engaged in any sexual activity last night, true to his word.

Which… really turned me on.

Of the clothes I’d hung for him, the only thing he had on now was his boxers – an easier barrier to overcome. He came to life in my hands almost as soon as I touched him. His eyes were still closed, but his body was very aware of what was going on.

My gaze skipped briefly to the flashing digital clock on my nightstand – at some point in the night, the power had come back on. I was looking for the time, but decided the incorrect numbers blinking at me didn’t matter.

Not right now, at least.

With Aiden’s dick in my hands, it was really hard to care what time it was.

I peeled the covers off both of us, bathing the contrasting hues of our skin in the morning light coming through the blinds. As I pushed myself lower on the bed, the man himself finally stirred. I fisted his shaft with one hand, cupping his balls with the other as I covered him with my mouth. Then, finally, his eyes drifted open to meet mine.

“Good morning to you too,” he groaned, offering me a lazy, satisfied grin as I took him down my throat.

In response, I sucked him harder.

It did, indeed, feel like a good morning.

Aiden’s fingers dug into my hair, fisting a handful as his hips bucked upward, stroking my mouth. My eyes flashed up to his, offering a warning glare and a little too tight of a squeeze to his balls.

This was my show, not his.

He let out a frustrated groan, but tucked his hands behind his head – signaling that he’d gotten the message. I pulled up, running my tongue up the line along the bottom of his shaft, then treating – teasing – the head with slow circles, savoring it before I took him fully into my mouth again. Swallowing him, as deep as I could possibly go.

“Shit,” he hissed, in tandem with another involuntary buck of his hips. I kept him down my throat as I slid my thumb over that extra-sensitive skin behind his balls, making him curse again.

Grab my hair again.

This time, I didn’t mind.

His lack of control now made me even more intent on driving him crazy, my head dipping up and down and side to side in a dual motion as my tongue swirled around him. His grip on my hair tightened with each stroke, with each breath I pulled through my nose. I hummed around him as tension

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