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“Now, you.” She undid the buttons on his shirt so quickly he was afraid she might pull one off. Then she tossed it somewhere. It might be hard to locate their clothes tomorrow, given that everything would probably end up under the bed. But then he didn’t care anymore because Ruth was kneeling in front of him.
She undid his button and zipper slowly. Much too slowly, as far as he was concerned. She pushed down his jeans and underwear and took him in her hand.
His pulse was jackhammering in his ears, everything in him concentrating on that single point, the touch of her hand. And then she leaned forward and took him into her mouth.
One hand stayed at the base of his shaft as she moved up and down, her tongue swiping across the head. It took all of his focus to keep from embarrassing himself. The rush of sensation was so intense, he groaned. If ever he needed distraction, it was now. But that seemed hard to come by. Suddenly, he couldn’t even remember the state capitols, let alone the saison recipe he’d used last night.
She moved her other hand to his sac, massaging lightly, and he gave up on trying to distract himself. It clearly wasn’t going to happen. Instead, he concentrated on holding himself back. But he began to suspect that wasn’t going to happen, either.
“Ruth,” he managed to choke out. “We need to move to the bed.”
She paused, staring up at him. “It’s all right. I don’t mind.”
“I do. I want to be inside you.”
Her lips moved into a grin, and she sat back on her haunches. “Okay. You need to take your clothes off for that.”
He glanced down. His jeans and underwear were still bunched around his knees. He hadn’t noticed.
He kicked himself free of his clothes as she pulled down the blanket and spread. His darker self longed to throw her onto the bed and have his way, but his saner self prevailed. Sort of.
He pulled her hips against him, letting his arousal press against her belly, kissing her for all he was worth. And suddenly remembered he had to grab a condom out of his jeans.
He started to turn, but she put a hand on his arm. “I’ve got some in the nightstand.”
Fine. He wasn’t going to argue. He picked her up, sliding his arms beneath her knees and her shoulders, and managed to drop her onto the bed before he piled on top of her himself. He spent a split second fumbling in the box before he pulled out a condom.
She started to take it from his hands, but he shook his head. “Nope. Gotta do this myself. Otherwise this might be over before we get started.”
She grinned up at him as he smoothed on the rubber, and he kissed her again just to show her how serious he was. “God, I want you,” he muttered.
“Then you’d better get to it.” She cupped his face in her hands and brought his lips to hers again, gentler this time, but full of sensation as her tongue rubbed lazily against his. He brought his fingers to her folds, testing her, knowing he couldn’t last much longer.
And then she took hold of him, guiding him to her opening and into the warm depths of her body.
He moved against her, trying to keep his head, trying to keep it slow but knowing he probably couldn’t. She brought her legs to his sides, wrapping them around his waist, her heels tucked against his ass as he moved.
He began to go more quickly, plunging deeper, his body on fire, his brain on autopilot. There’s never been anything like this before. Never with anyone else.
He filed that thought away to be examined later and let himself increase his stroke. Faster, harder, deeper. Beneath him, Ruth was panting, her breath loud in his ears. Her body tightened, her fingers digging into his biceps. And then she cried out, convulsing against him, her forehead pressed against his shoulder.
His own orgasm gathered at the base of his spine, traveling up like a shot of mercury, hitting him all at once, so that he groaned and lost his rhythm, his body jolting into hers.
When he finally came to himself again, he was still lying across her, his head against her breast. Given that he’d never had an experience like that before, he needed to say something.
“That was…” He paused, trying to find just the right words. But the right words weren’t there. Or rather, they were, but he wasn’t ready to say them.
