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Finally she dragged his face up and kissed him hard. “Jesus, you’re good at this,” she growled against his mouth.

He gave a pained laugh as she sat back.

“Do you have…protection?”

Why the fuck had he left his jeans five hundred miles away? He gestured vaguely toward them, but couldn’t look away from the site of her perched on his thighs. Her breasts were lovely, her nipples still hard and dark, and now he could see all the way down to the dark triangle of hair between her legs.

“Jamie,” she said, her voice urgent. “Condoms?”

“In my jeans,” he managed to grumble.

She leaned forward again, her body squeezing his cock so hard he saw stars of pleasure. Her arm reached past him to snag the pile of clothes.

“Thanks,” he gasped, taking the jeans from her hands to pull a condom out. Then he paused for an awkward moment, trapped by her body.

“Oh,” she said, scooting back to drop off his knees.

Jamie stood, slipping the condom on, aware of the way her eyes took him in. As he sank back into the water he grabbed her hand and floated her toward him. He slid a little lower so she’d have room to put her knees on the seat and kneel above him. Then he took his cock in hand and guided her down. He could watch through the clear water. When the head notched against her opening, he heard the way she drew in a deep breath and held it.

Then she eased down, her body taking him in, closing around him. He heard every flutter of her breath, every small gasp as his cock sank deeper.

Jamie didn’t breathe at all. He was too busy feeling the tightness and the pressure. He was too busy watching as he pushed inside her.

Her hand pressed against his chest. Her fingers spread wide. “Wait,” she gasped, breathing harder.

Jamie waited, his teeth clenched as he felt her muscles twitch around him, then ease slightly.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Thank God. Jamie finally drew a breath, then settled her down the last couple of inches. And for a moment that was it. That was all they needed. They both held still, letting the hot water calm around them. She stared down at the place where their bodies joined, as if she were as enthralled as he.

And it was quiet. So quiet. Birds sang. A car passed on his street. Far away, a lawn mower buzzed.

Jamie swept his hands up her hips, her waist, until he cupped her breasts. He teased his thumbs over her nipples and her hips jerked. Hell, yeah. That was all that was needed to break the lethargy. She rolled her hips into him with a tortured sigh. He let her set the pace. At first she was slow and easy, but when he pinched her nipples, Olivia took him faster, slamming her hips hard into him when he teased more roughly.

His orgasm was already building at the base of his cock, so Jamie tried not to think about how hot she looked. How her lean body arched back as she rode him, thrusting her breasts more firmly into his touch. He tried not to notice that he could see his shaft slide out of her when she rose, tried not to feel the impossible tightness of her pussy when she slid back down. He tried not to hear the soft, dark sound of her holding back her cries so the neighbors wouldn’t hear.

But when her whimpers grew louder and her hips worked faster, Jamie knew he couldn’t hold out much more. He slid a little lower in the water, easing her farther back, then he braced one hand on her hip and slipped the other between them. He could feel the perfect contrast of his hardness and her yielding sex, but lust made him clumsy, and it took him a moment to find the right spot.

“Oh, God,” she whispered when he finally stroked her clit. “Jamie. Oh, God.” She kept her movements tight and quick now. He gritted his teeth against the constant pleasure. “Oh, God,” she whispered over and over, while Jamie prayed for strength. Finally her whisper became a sob, and her hips spasmed against him, her sex squeezing impossibly tight. She buried her face in his neck and cried his name on a muffled scream, and he dug his fingers into her hip until the spasms stopped.

Her thighs were still shaking, but he eased her up until she sat above him again, eyes dazed.

And now he let himself notice everything as he braced her hips and surged into her. Her tousled hair and sleepy eyes. The way her flushed mouth parted on a hard gasp when he sank himself to the hilt. The jut of her nipples so dark against her pale skin.

She cried his name again, and he growled with satisfaction as he thrust into her with brutal lust. Finally, he came, grunting past his clenched teeth as he worked himself inside her until every last jolt of pleasure was done.

As soon as he loosened his hold, she collapsed against him, her body draping over his as if she were boneless.

Jamie managed a bark of strained laughter. “You okay?”

“No,” she said against his shoulder.

“No?”

“No. I feel…full. And sore.”

“Oh, sorry. I—”


Tags: Victoria Dahl Donovan Brothers Brewery Romance