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His hard, warm body was pressed against her back, while his hands cupped her breasts, his fingers making music, his touch driving her crazy.
She said nothing at first, just let her body rock with his, fighting not to whimper when he withdrew and then slowly eased himself back inside. He stretched and filled her completely, his body so in tune that words weren’t needed. This was sensory overload.
This was all a woman could ask for.
Ruby bit back a groan when his hand left her breast and settled on her hip, pulling her back into him. He nipped her shoulder, a love bite that hurt—the good kind of hurt—and then he stopped.
Her eyes flew open. It took a bit to focus. Then even more time for her brain to unravel what her eyes saw in the mirror that hung over her dresser.
Blankets tangled around their legs.
His tanned body a contrast to her honey gold.
A possessive hand on her hip.
Muscles that strained.
Bruised lips and flushed cheeks.
Skin on skin.
“Good morning.” Travis nipped her shoulder again, eyes on hers in the mirror. His jaw was dark and unshaven, his sensual mouth curved into a grin. He flexed his hips slightly, and she gasped at the sensation.
“Morning,” she managed to say, watching him, anticipating his next move.
“Lift your leg.”
“What? I…”
His hand left her hip and grabbed her knee, gently moving her leg up and open. Sweet Jesus. She saw herself. Saw him inside her. He held her knee and pressed his mouth agai
nst the side of her neck as he began to move. In and out. In and out. Slowly. Methodically. And then he picked up the pace.
She’d never seen anything as hot and sexy as this. Their bodies intertwined intimately, taking and receiving. The pleasure was intense. It was a miracle, really. How the human body worked. How desire and want and need shaped the dance. How one man’s body could make her feel as if she were coming undone.
He growled into her neck, his whiskers scratching along skin already raw from the previous night. “You like that?” he asked roughly, angling his body a bit and hitting that sweet spot deep inside.
She couldn’t speak. Hell, she was barely able to manage a nod. Her head fell back against him. His tempo increased. Their bodies were slick with sweat, and she arched her back slightly, a guttural, animalistic sound escaping as she felt her muscles tighten.
“That’s it,” he whispered. His long, measured strokes elicited whimpers, and when he increased the rhythm, the fire inside Ruby erupted tenfold. She was coming apart. Her orgasm was building. It swelled and pressed against her. It clawed at her, and she squeezed hard, smiling when he grunted.
“Open your eyes,” he said roughly. “Look at us.”
Ruby watched them in the mirror. The muscles on Travis’s neck strained with his effort to control himself. To draw out the pleasure for as long as he could. She placed her hand on him. Felt his strength as he stroked in and out. When she began to rub herself, to increase the pressure, the look on his face was something she knew she would never forget. It was feral. Possessive.
He was as lost in their coupling as she was.
“Now, Trav,” she said, her voice catching. “I can’t wait.”
Travis thrust harder and faster, his hand holding her in place, his eyes capturing hers in the mirror and not letting go. Her mouth opened, and she began to buck as her orgasm ripped through her body. They watched each other climb as high as they could go, before crashing back together.
For a long while, they stayed like that, joined in the most intimate way a man and woman could be. When their breathing slowed and their heartbeats lessened, he rolled onto his back, taking Ruby with him.
There were no words. Just his arms around her, and his head resting against hers. Her body still tingled from the aftershocks of her orgasm, and though she was warm and languid, a part of her was not. A part of her was remembering the day before. It was burrowed deep, held captive at the back of her mind, and it wouldn’t let go.
It was that part of her that wouldn’t let her fall back asleep. When Travis’s breathing was even and she knew he’d given in, Ruby slipped from his embrace. She slid off the bed and, without looking back, headed to the shower. She needed to think, and she needed to be alone.
She wasn’t long in the shower, just enough time to let the water run over her, and to lather up and wash her hair. She used a clip and pinned the wet length loosely on top of her head. Then dressed quickly in an old pair of white cotton shorts and a plain blue tank top, and shoved her feet into a pair of fluffy slippers.
