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‘Where are you going?’ she cried out on a thin wail of exasperation. Had he lost his mind?
He bent to get something out of his bedside table. ‘What’s the hurry, angel?’ he murmured.
Her eyes drifted down to that perfect rear end. Lust and frustration surged through her. She wanted to scream the house down. He’d worked her up to the point of meltdown and now he’d decided to rearrange his dresser!
‘What’s the hurry? Are you joking?’ she squeaked, embarrassed by the desperate quiver in her voice.
He turned back gripping a telltale foil packet between his fingers and heat flooded into her cheeks. Even in her rampaging nymphomania, how could she have forgotten about protection?
‘No joke,’ he said, sounding ever so slightly smug. ‘We wouldn’t want any surprises.’
He knelt back on the bed, grinning at her as he ripped open the packet with his teeth and rolled the condom on. He put his hands over her shoulders, forcing her back on the bed, caging her in.
‘Hasn’t anyone ever told you, patience is a virtue, angel?’ His eyes dipped to her tightly peaked nipples. ‘Although, it should be said, there’s not a lot of virtue in what I’m thinking right at the minute.’
Daisy’s caustic reply caught in her throat as his lips covered hers. She rose up to kiss him back, letting the need, the sensation take over. But as she wrapped her arms round him, her fingers found the ridges on his back and tenderness welled up right beside the need.
His fingers gripped her hips and in one smooth move, he thrust inside her.
She sobbed, the fullness shocking her, the fury of sensations making her cry out. Then he began to move. Slow, heavy, insistent strokes that had the orgasm coiling ruthlessly inside her.
A staggered moan wrenched from her throat as the intense pleasure sent shock waves rocketing up from her core. She anchored her legs round his waist, sweat slicking her skin as she moved to meet each of his deep thrusts with thrusts of her own, and he drove deeper still. Her high-pitched pants matched his harsh grunts. Everything clamped down, her whole body glowing and pulsating as it rode the crest of a magnificent wave. The broken sobs echoed in her head as she burst free and exploded over the top—and heard his muffled shout as he crashed over behind her.
‘That was amazing. You’re amazing,’ Connor murmured, stroking Daisy’s cheek, then winced at the cliché.
But what else was he to say? Hell, if he hadn’t been horizontal already he would have fallen over. He’d never had a stronger, more satisfying orgasm in his life. The experience had been literally mind-altering.
Using every last ounce of his strength he braced his arms to stop himself from collapsing on top of the woman responsible and crushing her. Her eyelids fluttered open as he stared down at her. He grinned as she focussed on his face. She looked as shattered as him, those round expressive eyes wide with amazement.
Then her vaginal muscles squeezed around him in the final throes of her orgasm.
‘God, sorry,’ she whispered as the pink in her cheeks darkened to maroon.
She looked horrified.
He had no clue what the problem was—but with her still wrapped tight around him he was finding it hard to give a damn. Feeling the blood rushing back to his groin, he did the decent thing—with not a small amount of regret—and lifted off her. The next round would have to wait. Something had spooked her—and he didn’t want to scare her off.
Propping his elbow beside her head, he leaned over her. His gaze swept her lush little figure and came to rest on her face. The flush of afterglow warmed her skin and dilated her pupils, darkening the deep green of her eyes, while the sprinkle of freckles across her nose defined those impossibly high cheekbones. She really was gorgeous.
She coloured even more, then looked away and tried to scoot out from under him. He locked his arm round her waist. ‘Now where would you be going? We’re not half finished yet.’
She wiggled, he held firm. Finally she looked at him, her cheeks now a deep and very becoming shade of scarlet. ‘There’s no time for anything else. I really have to be going, Mr Brody.’
His eyebrows shot up at the formal address. Then he simply couldn’t stop himself. He threw back his head and roared with laughter.
When he finally got his amusement under control, she’d stiffened like a board, her bottom lip puffed up in a defiant pout as she glared at him.
He grinned. What was she about?
Women! He gave his head a rueful shake. They really were a whole different species. But didn’t that make them all the more fascinating?
‘Angel Face,’ he murmured, loving the way her eyes narrowed, ‘as we’ve just made love like a couple of rabbits, I think you’d best be calling me Connor.’
CHAPTER FIVE
DAISY was utterly mortified. But she couldn’t decide if she was more annoyed by her own behaviour or the patronising look on Connor Brody’s face as he held her trapped by his side.
‘I don’t feel comfortable calling you by your given name,’ she blurted out. And then realised how prim and ridiculous it sounded.
