The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood Book 3) Nikki Sloane (sight word books TXT) 📖

my orgasm were there, but it lingered frustratingly just out of reach. Maybe all the edging before had made my body reluctant and defensive.

I was too desperate and frantic to see any other reason for why my orgasm was being so elusive.

The sex was so aggressive, it was taxing on both of us, and I sensed his confusion on why he hadn’t been able to push me over the edge. He’d done all the things right. He was thick and hard, pushing deep inside me with a punishing rhythm that should have made my toes curl and my eyes roll back into my head.

And it wasn’t like it didn’t feel good. It felt amazing.

But it had felt amazing since the moment he’d gotten inside me, and this sustained high point had become a plateau.

So, I drew one of my knees up, and urged him to let me hook it over his shoulder. It allowed him to slip even deeper, past the point of comfort for me, and I welcomed the sensation.

His eyes widened and then hooded with pleasure. When he slowed and ground himself against me, he gauged my reaction carefully. Or maybe he was trying to even himself out and make it last.

“Oh, fucking yes,” I groaned.

The aching fullness of him was just enough to break up my plateau and I finally crossed the threshold. I came in a rush, shuddering all around him, and he smothered my cry of pleasure under a devouring kiss. Like he wanted to drink in my moans.

The connection of our mouths went unbroken as he came too. The muscles beneath my hands solidified into rock, making him jerk to a stop, and the rhythmic pulses inside flooded me with heat. I sighed in enjoyment at the sensation.

My orgasm had been short, and evaporated from my body nearly as quickly, and as the man over me went still, déjà vu descended on me. Like yesterday, my release had only given me temporary satisfaction. There was a large part of me that wasn’t satiated.

It left me feeling incomplete. Like I’d been treating a symptom but not the underlying cause.

Instead of warming as he usually did afterward, tension gripped E and it was cold.

“Shit.” His tone was pure dread. “We didn’t use . . . I forgot to—”

Oh. Well, that was another reason why it’d felt so different. I’d completely lost my head about using a condom, and he had too. His gaze was on me, but his eyes were unfocused, and I squeezed his arm to bring him back and assure him.

“It’s all right,” I said. “I’m on the pill, and I’m safe.”

It took him a moment to process and he relaxed with a sigh, melting into the crook of my neck. “Me too, I swear.” He planted a kiss at the spot where my pulse pounded. “Fuck,” he whispered, “I can’t believe I did that.”

Did he mean forgetting the condom . . . or was he talking about the sex we’d just had?

“Yeah,” I said.

Icy slush seeped through my veins, making me cold all over. What the fuck had I just done? No, that was a stupid question. I knew exactly what I’d done. My betrayal would shatter all the trust I’d built up with Clay, and I’d destroyed this incredible partnership.

Hope it was worth it, a bitter voice said in my head, and the pain of it was so sharp, I had to tear my gaze away from E. I stared blindly at the bottom of the beautiful drawing table I was fairly certain Clay had built himself while E shifted, moving to lay on his side next to me.

I was aware he was looking at me. Perhaps he was assessing my mood or hoping I’d turn to him and give a shy smile. But I didn’t move. I couldn’t do anything because my guilt was crushing.

His fingers were warm as they gently grasped my chin, and he pulled my focus back to him. His expression was full of concern, and whatever look I had on my face made his worry deepen.

Now it was his turn to reassure. “Hey, it’s okay.” He slid his palm up and down my arm as if trying to warm me up. “It’s going to be all right, L.”

Displeasure made me press my lips together. How the fuck was this going to be okay? Even though I was in a sexual relationship with both Clay and E, we’d gone behind my partner’s back. I’d effectively cheated.

E raised up onto his elbow and his expression was serious. “This wasn’t your fault—it was mine. I’ll explain what happened, how I took advantage of the situation.”

“What?” What was he talking about?

He struggled to assemble the words. “I was so frustrated, I stopped thinking and I let my emotions take over. All I wanted was you alone, to talk to you.” His voice dipped low. “I wanted to kiss you. I didn’t give a damn about the consequences.”

“Hey, I didn’t either.” His hand on my arm had slowed to a stop, so I set mine on top of his. We’d done this together, and the blame was at least as much mine as it was his. “What are we going to do?”

His answer was immediate. “We tell him.”

I swallowed a breath and nodded, but my head was a mess. I loved what the three of us had. Was there any chance I hadn’t fucked it up beyond repair? The way E looked at me now, I felt lost. Now that I’d slept with him outside of my arrangement with Clay, what did he think? Would he expect me to leave my partner and become his?

My voice wavered. “How do you think he’ll react?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will he end the arrangement?” Panic made my heart flutter. “What if I never see you again?”

“That won’t happen.” His brow furrowed. “Clay’s a good guy. Yeah, he’ll be pissed, and he’s got every right to be, but . . .” He sighed. “Look, I’m new to this and all, and I’m not trying to shift blame,