Page 88 of Love In Hiding

That did it.

His mouth claimed hers with a hunger that erased the last of her doubts. He pushed off the wall, spinning them, his torso flush against her front, heat pouring into her everywhere they touched as he backed them into the room.

She dragged her fingers through his damp hair, tugging just enough to make him growl.

“London…” he warned, though he didn’t pull back. He pressed a trail of slow, devastating kisses along her jaw, down her neck, lingering at the spot that made her knees threaten to give out. A spot she hadn’t even known existed.

She felt his smile when her breath hitched.

Her hands slid beneath his shirt, her palms gliding over his firm muscles and warm skin. Those defined abs she’d pretended not to stare at. The chest she’d imagined more times than she’d ever admit.

“Keep doing that,” he said, his voice roughened, “and I’m not letting you leave tonight.”

“Who said I planned to leave?” she shot back, tugging his shirt up inch by inch. “You saw my luggage.”

His eyes darkened, the heat, the need, and something deeper as he bent, lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his hips like they’d done it a hundred times.

She gasped, her fingers gripping his shoulders.

“Guess itisa joint decision,” he said, his mouth brushing the sensitive skin beneath her ear.

She shivered. “Take me to bed. I’ve got condoms this time.”

He laughed and all but tossed her on the bed, her back bouncing once as he joined her there. “Me too.”

A small giggle escaped. Part freedom, part relief.

It’d be tonight. Finally.

Their hands were rushing across each other, clothes undone and flung all over the room.

She was going to get up and get her box of condoms, but he rolled, his feet hitting the floor, then reached for the bedside drawer, pulled it open and there were the condoms lying there like a symbol of victory.

She snatched one out of his hand, pushed him to his back, opened it and covered him, then crawled over his hips.

“Are you okay with this?”

“Does it look as if I’m not?”

Her eyes were on his cock, strong and steady, almost begging her to impale herself on it.

“You look ready for this.”

She lifted and sat down, a groan escaping her throat, his fist gripping her hair and yanking her face close to his.

“Ride me,” he growled, then crushed his mouth to hers.

Whoa. Not the man she thought he’d be in the bedroom. But hadn’t he thrown her off once before?

All the calm and patience he had... not now. Not like this.

This was where they fit perfectly. Where they were more alike than she ever thought would happen.

Her hips were rising and lowering, his mirroring it.

It wasn’t going to take long for the bright lights to fill her eyes. Not when she’d had a quick taste of him weeks ago and had been building it up more in her mind.

His hand tightened in her hair, almost pinching her scalp, making her move faster, harder, deeper.