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And then it happens.
The pleasure—unbelievable, indescribable—breaks over me in a rush I’m not expecting and could never have prepared for. I gasp, whimper, nearly scream with the unexpectedness of it. My head falls back and I close my eyes, but Ash growls my name.
“Look at me, Tansy. I want to see.”
I force my eyes open even as the climax rolls over me, find myself drowning in Ash’s cerulean ones. It’s the most intense moment of my life and I can barely breathe, barely think. All I can do is lose myself in him.
“There you are,” he murmurs. “I thought I lost you.”
“Never.” The word comes out before I can stop it, before I even know I am going to say it. It comes from some visceral place deep inside me that wants nothing more than for me to wrap myself around Ash and never let him go.
I expect him to freak out at the permanent sound of the word, but he just grins wickedly, like I’ve somehow made him happy. And then he’s kissing me, slipping his hands under my hips. Thrusting harder.
I do cry out then, as a whole new wave of pleasure rips through me. Ash’s whole body locks up, his arms tightening around me to the point of near pain and that’s when I feel it. His body jerking inside of mine, pouring into me.
I wrap my legs around him, pull him tighter, hold him closer. And lose myself in the overwhelming, all-encompassing pleasure that is Ash Lewis.
Chapter 19
Ash
Holy shit. Making love to Tansy damn near killed me.
I’m lying on top of her now, after the most intense orgasm of my life, and I swear I can’t move. I know I should—hell, she’s so tiny that I’m probably crushing her completely. But even knowing that, I can’t bring myself to shift off of her.
It doesn’t help that she’s twined around me like a vine, her arms and legs and body holding mine everywhere and in every way that she can.
Normally, I’d be freaking out right about now, trying to extricate myself from the situation. But it feels so good to lay here, holding Tansy, listening to her heart beat, hearing her breathing even out, that trying to escape seems like way too much effort. Especially since there’s nowhere I’d rather be right now.
The thought makes me nervous, but not enough for me to actually do something about it. After all, I just took Tansy’s virginity. She probably needs to be held. She certainly deserves to be.
But she also deserves to breathe, which is why I—reluctantly—pull out of her.
She makes a wordless protest that warms me deep inside, her hands clutching at me to hold me close. I murmur to her, sweet nothings that don’t mean anything except reassurance, as I tie off the condom and wrap it in a tissue I found on the nightstand. Then I settle next to her in bed again, pulling her right into the crook of my arm, so I can pet her all over.
She feels so good against me, soft and silky and sweet, and there’s a part of me that wants nothing more than to roll her over on top of me and try for round two. But she’s got to be sore—I wasn’t nearly as careful with her as I intended to be—and the last thing I want to do is hurt her.
“Ash?” she asks after several long minutes have passed. “Are you awake?”
“Yeah. You okay?” I drop a kiss on the top of her head.
She laughs, actually laughs. “Are you kidding me? I’m amazing. That was … amazing. Right? I mean, I’m not just imagining it, right? That was really, really—”
“Amazing,” I say before she can. Because she’s right, it was. I don’t know what it means, don’t know what I’m supposed to do with the knowledge—and the feelings welling up inside of me—but I do know that making love to Tansy was as exciting, as amazing, as dropping in on the most dangerous double black diamond trail there is.
“You sweet-talker you,” she says with a grin. And then she’s up on her elbow, leaning over me. Kissing me sweetly. Kissing me senseless.
I groan in protest when she breaks away for air a couple of minutes later, but she just laughs. Then rains small, quick kisses all over my face and chest and shoulders. I probably shouldn’t be as amused as I am, but I can’t help it. A relaxed, happy and well-fucked Tansy is the most endearing thing I’ve ever seen.
“So you’re one of those,” I tell her with a groan, grabbing her and pulling her back down next to me.
“One of what?” she asks me, eyes wide and concerned.
“One of those people who actually get energy from sex. You’re practically jumping out of your skin you’re so wound up.”
“Oh, yeah. I kind of am.” She blushes a little. “Is that not normal?”
“Not at all.”
