“You’re killing me.”
“Good,” she softly replied.
She took the condom out of his hands and quickly sheathed him. She moved to straddle him, but he rolled her over, wanting, no, needing her beneath him this first time, needing to see her expressions, needing the connection. He positioned himself and slowly entered her. She was tight, gripping him like a glove, but her previous orgasm eased his way.
Finally, he was seated to the hilt, and he rested his forehead on hers, heavy breath mingling with hers. “Are you sure? I can’t go slow, Laney.”
She ran her hands down his back, gripping his buttocks, and wrapped her legs around him, seating him farther, wordlessly urging him on. He reared back and plunged deep again, wringing a low cry from her. Nature took over, and he lost himself in the feel of her body, the sounds of her cries and the pounding of blood in his head. He lowered his head for a punishing kiss, their tongues mimicking their lovemaking. It only took a few quick thrusts, the tight squeezing of her inner muscles, before he was bellowing his release, her own orgasm echoing his. He collapsed on top of her, breathing hard, the raging wind and thunder from the storm keeping time with the rapid beating of his heart.
“Holy shit.” He barely got the words out between breaths.
“Ditto.” Barely a whisper, but the words arrowed straight to his heart.
He lay there for a moment, then kissed her deeply and rolled over. She protested and reached for him, but her hand fell to the side, exhausted.
“Be right back.” He pushed himself to his feet and padded to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When he returned, he slid next to her and pulled a blanket from the couch over both of them, gathering her into his arms until she was where she belonged, next to his heart, and fell asleep.
* * *
Delaney snuggled into Ethan’s furnace of a body, the warmth feeling good with the coolness from the air wafting around them. They had gone upstairs sometime in the night, to his bed, once the fire had burned down, made love one more time, then fallen into a dreamless sleep. She relaxed, satisfied and completely boneless, and that was only partly because of the amazing sex they had just shared. His arm wrapped about her midriff, anchoring her in place, and, for the first time in many years, she felt safe, secure, loved. It was different this time. They were different. Ethan had never made her feel safe. She hadn’t needed him to. The world was her oyster, and she owned it all. She hadn’t realized how fleeting it had all been, how flimsy the world her life had been built upon actually was. Having been on her own for several years, responsible for her mother, she had a whole new perspective on everything.
She couldn’t help but think what would have happened if she had stayed with Ethan. Would they have been like this—teasing, passionate friends? They had dated, had a good sex life, been friends, but now something was different. It was no longer expected they would be together. They no longer had family expectations dictating their lives. They were each different people now, had different lives, different experiences. Maybe circumstances could be different, too.
She shifted slightly, trying to face Ethan. He murmured and tightened his arm around her. She reached up with her hand and traced his cheek lightly with her fingertips, noting the new lines on his face, the more weathered look from working outside with the vines.
“Stop thinking so damn hard and go to sleep. Haven’t I tired you out enough?” he whispered in her ear and his cock stirred against her backside, reminding her how he could make her tired.
She chose that moment to yawn, a jaw-popping sound reminding her how little she had slept since receiving the invitation to the island. She turned over and burrowed closer, her head resting on his chest, the sound of his heart a soothing rhythm against her cheek. He shifted so she could settle in more comfortably, his arm across her back and holding her hip.
She sighed and let sleep overtake her.