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He blinked. He’d never believed that words alone could be enough to push him over the edge, but she’d almost proved that wrong. “Smart-ass.”
“Damn straight.” She guided him toward her opening, bending her knees to bring her hips up to meet him.
He wasn’t sure how long he could last, but he definitely intended to go as long as he could. A matter of honor, more or less.
The first stroke was almost enough, but he pulled himself back from the edge, moving slowly. Hang on, hang on, hang on. She moaned beneath him, moving one heel along his hip. He increased the stroke, moving deeper, letting himself slide closer to the edge.
She pressed her heels against his ass, pushing him deeper as he fought to keep his breath. It wasn’t going to be long, but it was going to be hard—he couldn’t help it. He plunged deeper still and her body tightened around him again. “Oh, sweet,” she whispered. “So…sweet.”
Another stroke, and she broke again. She cried out, grasping his shoulders tight as her body shuddered. And then she was bringing him with her, the rhythmic tremor of her body pulling him along. He groaned, losing control, losing rhythm, losing everything inside her, bodies merging for one ecstatic moment that left him limp and panting.
After a moment, he tried to move to the side so he wouldn’t be crushing her with his weight. But she tightened her arms around his shoulders, holding him fast. “Wait a minute,” she murmured. “Let me catch my breath.”
His breath was one of several things he was trying to hang on to. His sanity was right up there, too, along with his control. Several dangerous phrases were dancing through his mind. Incredible. Mind-blowing. Best ever.
None of those were words he should be repeating right now. Not when they were both in a state of post-coital vulnerability. If they were still in his mind in an hour, he might—might—repeat them.
Who are you kidding? It was mind-blowing, and incredible, and, yes, the best sex ever.
He moved slightly, and this time she let him roll to his side. He didn’t let go of her, even then. He wouldn’t let go of her for the rest of the evening if he had his way. He turned slightly to watch her—the spread of dark lashes against her cheek, the slight flush that still showed along her throat.
Beautiful. So beautiful.
Her eyes opened and she stared back, those dark eyes miles deep, way beyond him. “What’s up, Dempsey?”
“Just thinking how lovely you are.” He tried for a smile and didn’t make it. The words sounded tinny in his ears, even though he meant every syllable.
She smiled and turned away, as if she knew he wasn’t serious.
Was he?
“We didn’t have much dinner. One slice of pizza apiece.”
“Are you hungry?” He rested his head on his arm. “I could bring the pizza in here.”
“Pizza in bed?” She frowned. “Sounds a little messy.”
“We could go back in the kitchen,” he said doubtfully. He didn’t want to leave the bed just yet. In fact, he’d be perfectly happy to spend the rest of the evening here, assuming Ruth was willing.
She turned her head, staring up at him from beneath those wonderful dark lashes. Then her lips moved up in a smile. “On the other hand, a little mess never hurt anybody.”
“Nope. Pizza and beer, coming up.” He slid out of bed quickly. The faster he headed for the kitchen, the faster he’d be back. But then he paused. Even a few minutes was a long time, now that he thought about it.
He leaned down, cupping her cheek in his hand, and gave her the best kiss he could manage, considering that she was lying down and he wasn’t.
She turned onto her side, smiling up at him. “Hurry back.”
“Oh, lady, you have no idea how fast I can move when I’m motivated.” Trotting was safest, but a dead run wasn’t out of the question.
…
A few hours later, Ruth lay in the darkness, warm and sated. Well-fed, well-loved.
Of course, loved was maybe the more romantic way of putting it. They’d had a lot of sex and it was terrific. But she wasn’t sure she should think much beyond that.
She was beginning to think her judgment wasn’t all that great where Liam was concerned. He’d been sweet and gentle and very, very skilled when it counted. And he hadn’t sounded like he was trying to slide by on charm when they talked.
