‘My turn,’ he managed, the words coming out on a croak, his mouth as dry as the Sahara after a fifty-year drought.
He used his hands, to turn her round. Unhooking her bra, he cupped her breasts from behind. The nipples poked into his palms as he nestled the rigid weight of his arousal against her buttocks.
She leaned back against him, arched into his palms as he traced the puckered skin, plucked at the hard tips. He splayed a palm across her stomach, ventured beneath the waistband of her panties. She bucked as he traced the plump lips of her sex, found the slick nub.
Damn, how could he want her this much again? So much he felt clumsy and raw and as if he were touching her for the first time, the only time.
Her hands reached back and gripped his thighs to steady herself, the soft moan almost more than he could bear as he circled and rubbed, beckoning the orgasm forth as he fought to keep the thin thread on his control from snapping. He buried his face in her hair, wrapped his arm round her waist to hold her still as he stroked relentlessly. Her body shook and then bowed back as her ragged sobs signalled her climax.
The scent of seduction surrounded him as she sagged against him. He picked her up, placed her on the bed.
She looked dazed, unfocused, her eyes round with wonder. ‘Thank you, you’re awfully good at that.’
He basked in the surge of satisfaction—and thanked God that she hadn’t noticed his hands trembling.
She glanced at the bedside table, sent him a cheeky smile. ‘Are we going to use the syrup now?’
He stared at it blankly. Then reached for it blindly, trying to get his mind to engage. ‘Yeah.’
Fun, superficial, relaxed. Keep it light, damn it. Keep it hot. Keep it non-committal.
Twisting the top, he drizzled a drop onto the rigid peak of one breast, watched the areola tighten—then concentrated on adorning the other nipple. The hot blood pounding hard in his groin.
She laughed, shifted, letting the sticky sweetness trickle into the valley between her breasts. ‘Watch out. We’ll get your sheets all sticky.’
‘Like I care.’ He forced his lips to lift, then capped the bottle, stuck it back on the table. Gripping her hips, he dragged her beneath him.
He bent to lick off the amber sugar he’d been addicted to since childhood. But as his tongue swirled across the tight peak and she let out a soft sob of stunned pleasure all he could taste was the intoxicating essence of her.
Iona lifted off the bed at the sweep of his tongue over sensitive flesh, her mind still fogged with afterglow. He feasted on her, licking and suckling, until her nipples throbbed, sharp jolts of sensation shooting down to her still-tender sex. She lifted her hips, felt the head of his erection brush her inner thigh.
Holding his cheeks, she lifted his face. ‘Please,
Zane, I need you inside me.’
Power shimmered through her veins along with the passion as his eyes darkened.
Lifting up, he reached into a drawer on the bedside table, brought out a condom and sheathed himself.
Holding her hips, he bent her knees, positioning her so she was open to him and then surged inside in one devastating thrust. The fullness shocked her, so much more than before. She held on to broad shoulders, her fingers slipping on sweat-slicked skin. But then he started to move and the pressure built and intensified, turning to blinding, burning, all-consuming pleasure.
Her lids fluttered shut as the firestorm blazed through her, seizing her chest, rushing over her skin, making her breath hitch, her mind float, her centre throb.
‘Look at me, don’t close your eyes.’ The words were harsh, demanding, but just beneath was the hint of desperation.
Her eyes flew open and she saw something wild and intense in the brilliant blue. He thrust harder, thrust deeper, stroking that secret place deep inside. Then reached down, expert fingers stroking her core.
‘Come for me again, damn it.’ The words ground out low and demanding as the wave of orgasm rushed towards her. Hard, fast and unstoppable.
Sensation exploded as her body broke apart, the waves of pleasure battering her. She sobbed, the cry of shock and exultation drowned out by his shout of release as he collapsed on top of her.
Iona drifted back to consciousness, his weight heavy on her, which had to explain the pressure on her chest. She could hear his tortured breathing and felt the hitch in her heartbeat.
Don’t get carried away. Good sex. No, great sex. Is all about physical gratification. And nothing whatsoever to do with emotion.
But even knowing that, she couldn’t resist the heavy beat of contentment as she stroked her hands over the long muscles of his back. Maybe this was only short-term, but however long it lasted, while it lasted, he would be all hers. The thought made her a little giddy.
She trailed her fingers over the bumps of his spine, smiled at his soft grunt of acknowledgement. And felt a little smug at the knowledge that she had exhausted him.