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“Me?”
“Sky, the waiting is killing me. See if you can meet me.”
There was a challenge in his eyes and in his voice, and Sky’s spirit locked onto that. Holding her breath, she thrust her hips toward him, instead of away. Her vision blurred, she felt tears on her cheek.
Stretched to capacity, his rigid cock filled her. Her entire pelvis flooded with sensation, a pulse at her center pounding. She could feel the solid length of his cock throbbing in her most sensitive place. Through the pain, pleasure rolled over her. Instinct took over. Rory was still holding back, waiting for her. “I’m okay,” she whispered.
He nodded, then moved. Once. It was a shallow thrust, but it sent her crazy.
The need for more grew urgent. “Please,” she begged. “Don’t stop!”
The muscles in his neck were taut. His eyes shone with victory. He laughed, his expression devious.
“Rory,” she whispered, her voice low and desperate, her hips rocking.
He moved again, his eyes gleaming, his lips curling. “Now, we’re there.”
When he thrust deeper she cried out with relief. “Oh god yes!”
He kissed her hard and long, his hips rolling into hers all the while, encouraging her to join him by holding her hips, drawing her to him as he thrust inside her. “You crazy girl, I can’t believe you waited all this time.”
She wrapped her hands around his back, marveling at the rippling muscle. Claiming him, her knees rose higher at his sides, while she devoured his kisses, increasingly feverish with longing for him. “So glad it was you,” she blinked back silly tears. “Oh god it’s so good!”
The muscles in his arms flexed as he rose up and drove into her.
In his eyes, she saw the power of the moment for him, his intense maleness surrounding her, claiming her. She arched beneath him, willing it on.
He pushed his face into her hair, slid his other hand across her belly and then down. His fingers lodged at the place where they joined. Each time he thrust she moaned loudly, shocking herself with the sounds, but unable to stay quiet. Each time his cock crushed against her center, deep inside, sheer pleasure soared through her.
“Good?” he whispered, his mouth at her neck, his teeth grazing her flesh.
“Yes, yes.” She tried to say more, but words wouldn’t form.
She was right there, on the edge of orgasm. A blaze of sensation raced through her, stealing her breath away, letting loose heat from every pour. At her center her body tightened rhythmically, stunning her. As the heat flamed out, it seemed to melt her flesh to his.
“Sky...” He stopped moving. His eyelids lowered, his cock seemed to grow harder still, then she felt it lunge and jerk and he bellowed, his body shuddering.
She clung to him in wonder.
He kissed her face and held her, stroking her gently, staying close.
With sweet and sudden realization, she listened to their twin heartbeats, racing, so close together, so unified. It was so precious she didn’t want it to
end.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Rory raced through the gears, steering his Triumph Thunderbird Commander motorcycle through the queuing cars in the London traffic. He was late, and he hadn’t even slept. Sky hadn’t wanted to, and neither had he.
He’d been her first, which astonished him. It also set off warning bells. Why had it even happened? He’d vowed to walk away from her. He probably should have. Eventually he’d left when the tube stations opened. He made the first train home, where he showered and changed and got on his bike to head to work.
Normally he tried to get to work before the big commuter jam hit, but he was right in it today and kept weaving through log jammed traffic. He felt like he had a wild demon on his tail and he had to outride it. Bad decisions were like that, and he was pretty sure he’d made one. Had to be the case, because he couldn’t shake off thoughts of the night before.
Roaring along the embankment carriageway at the Thames riverside, he passed stationary traffic. Car drivers glared at him while they queued to pay their city congestion charges. It always gave Rory a kick.
Minutes later he turned off the dual carriageway and followed the road along the rail tracks that went east. The workshop was under the railway arches some four miles further on the tracks, but he liked to weave as close to the rail track as he could, learning the side streets. When they first came to the city, courier work was one of the things the three of them did to make cash. It had been a goal, to learn his way around the back routes of London in case he could get more courier work later on. As it happened, once he signed up to work with George at the classic bike shop he didn’t need to, but he’d got into the habit and still liked to source the craftiest side routes.
Dropping down through the gears, he slowed and turned into the narrow street where the workshop was located. The arched wooden gates stood open, latched back on massive wrought iron hooks, indicating George was already in and working.
