Darla could not have said how long he teased her with it, just enough pressure to promise, but never entering as he kissed her mouth rough and nibbled at her neck. He growled at her, the vibration of it shuddering through her skull, and rolled her earring with his tongue.
She begged and tried to press herself up and around him, full of desperation and desire, and he taunted her by pulling away, until she was a tangled ball of need and heightened sensation.
Then, at last, he pressed into her, in one long, slow thrust that joined them on some new level of pleasure and he was trying to shush her with a kiss because she could not help but keen out loud in pleasure.
He continued to thrust, almost painfully slowly, and Darla tried in vain to keep herself quiet as all the nerve endings in her body seemed to burn with bliss.
“Shhh,” Breck reminded her, though he looked enormously pleased with himself. He withdrew, making Darla give a little guttural cry of loss, then rolled her over in the bed and pressed into her from behind. Darla stuffed her face into a pillow and screamed as pleasure rolled over her, clawing at the sheets and thrusting herself back against him desperately.
As her senses slowly returned from the overwhelming orgasm and the aftershocks gradually died away, Darla pulled away from Breck and rolled over.
He had a look of intense concentration and desperation, and when he buried himself into her again, Darla could feel the way all his muscles were bunched up tight in almost agonized self-control.
“Breck,” she said, reaching up to cradle his face. “Oh, Breck.”
The sound of his name on her lips seemed to crack him. His weight came down over her as he crushed her into his arms and began to really thrust in earnest.
She cried his name again, arms and legs wrapped around him, and found one last, unexpected wave of pleasure as he made a helpless noise of release and the heat of his seed filled her.
Chapter 26
Breck cradled Darla in his arms, tangled in the middle of the mussed bed. A light blanket had been sloppily pulled over them to keep the night chill off their sweat-drying skin.
He would have been content to stay there forever, given the chance, but she stirred.
“I’m sore,” she said in tired delight, and it made Breck’s leopard give a growly purr of satisfaction.
“I’m not sorry,” Breck chuckled, nibbling at her neck.
“I hope you haven’t left any bite marks,” Darla said with a giggle. “Might be hard to explain those to Mother.”
Breck turned his nibbles to gentle kisses. “Nothing that won’t be gone by morning,” he promised.
The words, gone by morning, slowed his kisses and made him hold her tighter.
She would be gone by morning.
And two days after that, she would be gone forever.
The languid contentment vanished, like a drop of soap chasing a rainbow film of oil away.
“I shouldn’t stay long,” Darla said sadly, turning in his arms. “But I’m so glad I came.”
“And came and came and came…” Breck teased.
She flushed, and giggled, and buried her face into a pillow to muffle her laughter as it edged to hysterical.
Breck wrapped her up in his arms and tickled her, spurred by her laughter.
Then they lay curled together again, and Darla stroked her fingers down his arms as if mesmerized. “Did you grow up here?” she asked quietly.
“At Shifting Sands?” Breck asked. “It’s only been open a few years, though it was originally built in the 80s. No, I grew up in Detroit. My parents died when I was young, and my grandfather raised me. He was a steel worker, before the big factory crash.”
“Did you get along well?”
“Better than you’d think,” Breck said with a chuckle. “He was an old-fashioned Catholic union worker, and I… well, I’ve always been me. But we were family, and we loved each other even when we didn’t exactly see eye to eye.”
“Did he… disapprove of you?” Darla asked shyly.