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‘So am I,’ she replied
It was all the permission he needed. His shaft jerked against her belly from the kick of desperation. Palming her buttocks, and angling her pelvis as best he could, he thrust home in one long, solid glide. Her slick, wet sex stretched to receive him, then massaged him like a velvet vice. Her head dropped back, thudding the wall, as he began to move, the thrusts jerky, desperate, the need quickly becoming too fast and furious, the need so raw and draining he couldn’t slow down, couldn’t stop now if his life depended on it.
She sobbed, her fingernails scraping his back as she clung on. Her muscles began to milk him, and he knew she was coming.
Don’t pull out. Not yet. Hold on. Damn it.
His seed boiled, driving up from his balls, hurling him closer and closer to the cliff edge, her sobs of completion beckoning him to come faster, harder. And a tiny part of his mind screamed to the animal inside him.
Now. Pull out, now.
He wrenched himself free. Dropping his head against her shoulder, kissing the salt, sweet taste of her neck, the pain of separation as devastating as the brutal, unstoppable roll of orgasm as his seed pumped into the welcoming softness of her belly.
* * *
‘Damn, that was even more awesome than I remember.’
Ella’s gaze shimmered back into focus as a rough palm touched her cheek and blunt fingers sank into her hair. Those deep emerald eyes searched her face, making her chest tighten.
She nodded, gently, feeling stunned, her sex still clenching and releasing from the intensity of her orgasm. Seemed absence didn’t just make the heart grow fonder.
‘Yes,’ she whispered, her throat raw from the wellspring of emotion.
His lips curved, and he placed a tender kiss on her forehead. ‘Come on.’ He hefted her into his arms, bracing his forearm under her buttocks as she held onto his shoulders. ‘Let’s grab a shower. Then I want a cupcake.’
‘But we still need to talk,’ she murmured against his neck.
‘Sure. But first I want to see that magnificent rack covered in soap suds.’
She chuckled, resting her head on his shoulder, and draping her arms around his neck, her emotions too close to the surface to protest. Surely a few more minutes of intimacy, of getting reacquainted, wouldn’t do any harm—she’d waited this long already?
Locating the tiny bathroom at the back of the flat, he put her down to twist on the shower. But kept one hand on her hip, as if he were afraid she’d run off. She remembered leaving him, that morning with only a thank you. And felt the renewed trickle of guilt.
The water gurgled and spurted out of the shower head, the stream thin and underwhelming.
‘Is that as good as it gets?’ he remarked.
She smiled. ‘This is British plumbing we’re talking about. That’s the equivalent of Niagara Falls.’
His quick grin lifted her spirits and made the trickle of guilt dry up.
‘At least it’s hot,’ he said, testing the temperature before he hauled her into the cubicle.
‘Not for long.’
He grabbed her lemon verbena soap off the ledge, and worked up a lather, his hair plastered to his head, his eyes wicked with intent. ‘Then we better get this party started.’
Gentle hands cupped her breasts, lifting and testing the weight as his thumbs glided over pebbled nipples. The heat pulsed and tugged between her thighs.
She took the soap to wash him in return, putting all the emotion she felt into the task as her hands stroked the lean, muscular slopes of his abdomen, explored the roped sinews that defined his hip bones. She took his penis into her palm, felt it lengthen and harden as she caressed it.
Blood surged into her tender clitoris, and she knew she wanted him again, already, surging deep, the delicious decadent stretching feeling of his flesh entering hers. Touching her womb where their child grew.
Soon he would know, and, whatever his reaction, surely it would be okay, when this closeness, this physical joining felt so good, so right.
But then he lifted her breasts, the cooling water sluicing away the soap, and said, ‘I like the extra weight—it looks great on you.’
The approval in his gaze had the wave of guilt flopping over in her stomach. She couldn’t wait any longer. It wasn’t fair to him, or to their child. She drew away from him, her back wedged against the wall of the cubicle.
