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And what they do to me when he drags them all over me could quite possibly be illegal.
But I’m not calling the cops.
I turn, relieved that my shoulder doesn’t hurt at all, so I can watch Kane in slumber. I don’t think he sleeps well usually, but when he’s with me, he sleeps like a baby.
He’s been incredible since I hurt my shoulder. His patience with me when I was whiny and grouchy was amazing. He’s gentle and kind. And he hasn’t initiated sex even once since that day.
I know he’s afraid of hurting me. Kane wouldn’t hurt me for anything in the world.
But, damn it, I’m a woman with needs. And the shoulder is good enough that I shouldn’t wrench it out again just by having sex.
I mean, I guess I could. But we don’t have to be that acrobatic.
We’ll save that for later.
Kane’s wearing nothing under the covers but his boxer briefs. They’re white with black trim, and they hug his thighs and ass in the most delicious way.
Glasswork is physically demanding. Kane’s body is a work of art in and of itself, and is clearly honed perfectly so he can conquer his craft.
But the eye candy is a wonderful side benefit.
I plant an open-mouthed kiss to his abdomen, just below his navel, then look up to see if he wakes up.
He doesn’t.
He has one arm slung over his head. His hair looks darker against the white bedsheets. When I place another kiss, closer to the waistband of his shorts this time, his legs move just a bit.
Enjoying myself immensely, I drag my tongue over the smooth skin just above the elastic and then gently pull them down, exposing more flesh.
His cock grows with each touch of my lips. His skin heats. When I glance up, his eyes are open, bright green, and watching me intently.
“Raise up,” I whisper. When he complies, I work the shorts over his hips and down his legs. His cock lays heavy against his stomach, just waiting for me to do all kinds of wicked things to it.
And so, I do. I lick and nibble up and down the length of the shaft, and when I finally wrap my lips around the tip, Kane’s hips jerk in response.
“Feckin hell,” he whispers, Ireland thick in his voice. “You’ll bring me to my bleeding knees, Anastasia.”
“No need for that.” I cup his balls and gently massage the smooth skin just under them, and watch in wonder as Kane proceeds to fall apart in my hands.
His thighs tense, his hands fist in the sheets, and he bares his teeth.
“Christ in Heaven.”
I can’t stand it anymore. I need to feel him inside me. I want to ride him until neither of us can see straight.
I gently work my T-shirt and yoga shorts off, then reach over Kane for the drawer with the condoms, and torture us both by slowly rolling it down his shaft.
“I might die,” he growls.
With a smile of immense female satisfaction, I straddle Kane’s hips and slowly lower myself onto him. My head falls back in delight, and with one hand braced on his chest, I begin to move. Slowly, up and down, our eyes locked.
I bear down and clench around him, relishing how incredible he feels inside of me.
Suddenly, he sits up, locks his lips onto mine, and wraps an arm around my back. He swiftly reverses our position, and I’m suddenly looking up at him as I hitch my legs higher up on his hips, opening myself to him even more than before.
“Anastasia,” he whispers. “Mo ghrá.”
The lovemaking is slow but intense. Full of soft sighs and deep kisses. Smiles and nibbles.
Before long, we’re lost in each other as we fall over the edge into oblivion.
We didn’t have sex. I don’t know that we’ve ever simply had sex. This is love, pure and simple.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks and kisses the ball of my hurt shoulder.
“Not even a little,” I assure him. “I’m feeling much better.”
“I’m glad. Because keeping my hands to myself has been torture.”
I smile and drag my fingers through his thick hair. “There’s no need to keep your hands to yourself. In fact, I rather like it when you don’t.”
“Do you, now?” He nuzzles my nose with his and licks my bottom lip before plundering my mouth with the energy of a man who didn’t just have mind-blowing sex. “Well, I’ve a mind to keep my hands on you for a while yet.”
“You do have the best ideas.”* * *We’ve been in this bed for well over fifteen hours, and it’s been the best hours of my life. My body feels sated, my muscles sore but deliciously so. I woke up just a few moments ago, alone. But I can hear Kane downstairs, and I can smell coffee.
Bless him.
