He was worried her ardor would have cooled by the time he returned, that he’d have to coax her once again into readiness to receive him. But although she’d removed her hands from behind her head, she lay on her back, her breathing still escalated…her pale thighs spread. He rolled on a condom and came down over her.
“I’m about to lose it, I want you so bad,” he said, realizing too late his tone sounded accusatory. He thrust into her slit, heedless of her soft cry, consumed by his own rampant need for Angeline.
He wasted no time in setting a rapid, forceful pace. She didn’t seem to mind his eagerness. Her bobbing hips met him stroke for stroke. Lost in the midst of profound arousal, Alex wondered distantly if he wasn’t indeed taking out his anger on Angeline. But then his lust swelled as the sounds of their frantic fuck crashed in his ears—Angeline’s high-pitched whimpers and cries, his own fierce grunts and the slapping sounds of their skin rhythmically striking one another’s, the tempo quickening with each passing moment.
She held onto his shoulders as if for dear life, her nails scoring him, and he paused, fully sheathed inside her, then grabbed her arms. He pinned her wrists to the floor above her head, holding them there with one hand. He resumed fucking her while their gazes held, savoring the image of her breasts bobbing in the wake of their forceful joining, restrained beneath him…utterly his.
At least for this brief moment of time.
The volatile thought caused his cock to lurch furiously in her tight sheath. It was too late…he couldn’t take anymore of this potent torture. He reached between them, massaging her slick clit, desperate for her to join him in the beckoning conflagration.
She cried out sharply. At the sensation of the walls of her vagina convulsing around him and a rush of heat around his cock, he thrust deep. He roared as climax ripped through him…as he lost himself in the consuming depths of Angeline’s fires.
Chapter Six
Angeline lowered her arms slowly. She ran her hands down Alex’s heaving ribcage and across his muscular back, enraptured by the sensation of smooth, thick, perspiration-damp skin. He felt magnificent—so different from her, truly the epitome of male beauty.
He’d been so rough with her. No…not rough, that wasn’t right. Demanding and utterly confident she’d meet his demands.
She had, much to her amazement.
And she’d loved it.
It was crazy what had just happened. A lunacy to be feared or an insanity to be treasured—Angeline didn’t know which.
He lifted his dark head from the juncture of her neck and shoulder and pressed his lips to her leaping pulse. His heat penetrated into her, making her shiver, and Angeline knew whatever had just occurred—madness or magic—it couldn’t be denied.
The fires in his blue eyes were banked when he met her gaze, but Angeline sensed they were ready to leap forth at a touch…at a word. Alex Carradine may not be polished, but he was the most vibrant man she’d ever met. His passion stunned her in its immediacy, its intensity.
Best to admit it. She’d never felt more alive in her life than in those flaming moments Alex had branded her with his singular passion.
“Are you all right?” he rasped.
She nodded, her throat clogged by the unasked question, what now?
His eyelids narrowed slightly. Angeline wondered bemusedly if she’d actually spoken the question out loud.
“Don’t. Not now. Now’s not the time to worry about it. I’m going to make love to you again. Maybe after that you can worry, but not now, Angeline.”
Her throat convulsed as she swallowed the knot in it with difficulty. His boldness, the sheer force of his character stunned her a little. How could Mitchell make his son out to be an immature rebel with no backbone? Angeline couldn’t have imagined an individual who was more opposite in that representation until she’d met Alex. As a matter of fact, Alex was so rich in character, she’d begun to suspect that Mitchell’s portrayal of his son was purposefully inaccurate. Why that would be, she didn’t know.
“You would have been a billionaire if you stayed in business, do you know that?” she whispered.
His handsome mouth pulled in irritation. “I am in business.”
“I’m not echoing your father, Alex. I just meant that you could tell a person they needed to buy a truckload of umbrellas in the desert, and they’d do it.”
He leaned down until their faces were only inches apart, his gaze spearing her. She felt his cock swell inside her and bit her lower lip to stifle a whimper.
“Does that mean you’re buying the umbrellas?”
“I’m considering it,” she whispered. “Which says a lot. Because I know for a fact its absolute lunacy and I’m going to regret it later on.”
His hard mouth softened infinitesimally, telling her he liked her answer. “Useless to regret the inevitable.” He gave her an assessing glance before he pushed his upper body off her. “Speaking of umbrellas…I think I better open up another one. The old one got pretty well used in that storm.”
The whimper of arousal she’d been holding in erupted out of her throat as a cry of protest when he withdrew. She watched in fascination as he knelt next to her and light and shadow dappled his big, muscular, naked body. She thought of battle-hardened Roman soldiers, of warrior gods naked of their armor.
He glanced up in the process of removing the condom and caught her staring. She didn’t know what he saw on her face, but he went entirely still. His features went rigid.