He touched her cheek, his thumb resting against her strong, decisive chin. Her face was made for both smiles and defiance. She was made to keep going.
“I’m here because you glow.”
She looked at him, big brown eyes wide, and then surged up into his lap, fumbling at his tie, at his shirt buttons.
“Come on,” she said breathlessly. “Come on, please. Be mine. Be real for me—you feel like you have to be a dream.”
“You’re the dream,” Martin said.
He had smudged her lipstick. Her mouth was a blur of deep pink, her cheeks flushed. He’d never seen someone so all-over rose and gold. Her passion was a rare ornament. He had missed the slide of the amber teardrop entirely because, as a mere jewel, it couldn’t equal her glory.
Tiffani parted her legs.
Martin wanted to taste her but he also wanted to touch her: his head was a jumble of longings he couldn’t sort out. He kissed her mouth and put his hand between her legs, stroking into the hot softness of her. She was made out of living satin.
Tiffani held onto him. Her body tightened and tightened, like a bowstring drawing back. Then, with a cry, she called out his name and pressed up against him, her hips against his. The position knocked his hand away and she found her first climax with her slick, inviting folds poised against his cock.
She was beautiful, and he could have watched her come forever, but the tension was unbearable.
He took out one of the condoms. “Can I—?”
She nodded. All her hair was down around her shoulders now. She looked wild, like a Greek goddess springing up from the surf.
But all she said was, “Please. I want to feel you.”
Blood pounded in his ears. He rolled the condom on.
When he eased himself into her, she let out a deep, throaty moan, her hands digging into his back.
“It’s been so long... you feel so good, I didn’t know it could feel this good...”
He kissed her, recapturing the burnt sugar sweetness of her mouth. She spoke against his lips, an endless murmuring of yes and Martin. She was so alive, so responsive. He felt everything with her, as if he’d been stripped of all his protection and been left nothing but nerve endings and the beating of his heart.
No. He was nothing but the repetition of I love you, I love you, I love you thundering inside his chest.
He could not resist her for long, but she came again, just seconds before he did. There was a moment of perfect synchronicity, their bodies moving together as inseparable as drops of water in a river. It was like flying. It was better than flying.
Chapter Five: Tiffani
They had no time for afterglow.
Heedless, irresponsible, and as reckless as teenagers, they took it anyway. Five minutes, they agreed. It turned into ten.
Tiffani cuddled up under his arm. She stroked his chest with her hand. She liked the way her long, bare fingers looked against the hard muscles of his chest. Unlike him, she’d had good reason
to remove her wedding ring.
“You made me break a promise,” she murmured.
“That you’d have an entirely professional first day?”
“That I’d give up on strenuous exercise.”
He laughed and drummed his fingers against her shoulder. “Roll over onto your back.”
She did and he lowered himself down and kissed the curve of her belly.
“I love this spot right here,” Martin said. “Right above your navel. So you’re right. We’ll have to be more careful. Anything vigorous requires an immediate application of room service chocolate soufflé.”