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She cried out. Her body bucked against his. Her hips arched towards his. He groaned, gathered her breasts between his hands, kissed one and then the other, drew the eager tips into the heat of his mouth.
She tasted the way she smelled. Of flowers. Of the sea. And of cool forest mornings and hot prairie afternoons. She tasted of dreams he’d dreamed and dreams he’d lost, of dreams that had always been just beyond his reach.
She was sobbing. Saying his name. Pressing herself against him.
Her teeth nipped at his jaw. At his lips. He gave her his tongue and she sucked it into her mouth.
Jesus.
Another minute, he was going to come.
Quickly, he reached for the waistband of her pants. A button popped; the zipper snagged. He cursed and she shoved his hands away and undid the zipper herself.
He pushed her pants and panties down her legs, knelt and tugged one of her feet free. Then he rose. Reached for his fly.
His hand shook as he undid it.
His erection sprang free, throbbing with life.
He put his hand between them. Between her thighs. She gasped. He groaned. She was hot. Wet. For him. For this, he thought, for what only he could give her, and he grasped her thigh, lifted it, brought her leg over his thigh.
“Hang on to me,” he whispered.
He drove into her.
Deep, deep into her.
She screamed in ecstasy. Sank her teeth into his shoulder. He rocked into her. Harder. Deeper.
The world was spinning. And she was sobbing his name.
It was everything he had imagined because, yes, he had imagined this.
And it was more.
His name like a song on her lips. Her silken heat clasping his swollen penis. Her scent, the scent of sex, in his nostrils.
He was close to the edge. Too close. He wanted her to come again. Wanted to feel the glovelike clasp of her around him as she fell off the edge of the world.
He slipped his hands under her ass. Lifted her off the ground. Her legs went around his hips and he drove into her again. And again. And this time, when she screamed, she screamed his name and he let go.
Emptied himself into her. Deep. So deep.
She slumped forward in his arms, her face buried in his shoulder.
He held her that way while his heartbeat steadied. While hers steadied. She was damp with sweat. She shivered, and he knew she must be chilled.
He held her tighter. Stroked his hand down her back.
She deserved more. And more was what he would give her. He’d take her to her room… Hell. No. Tanner and his wife were in this hotel. Where, then?
“Put me down.”
He nodded, made soft, soothing sounds. He’d take her to his place. His small cottage up the beach. He never took women there. He’d never even considered doing it, but tonight…
“Lieutenant. Put me down.”
Lieutenant?
