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‘Not yet,’ he growled, the barely leashed demand in his gruff voice exciting in its intensity. ‘Let me touch you first. Or this is gonna last about two seconds.’
She stopped struggling against his hold, the terse admission more gratifying than a thousand declarations of undying devotion. Lying boneless, she let her own hunger overwhelm her, frantic to feel the rush of release that would make her forget everything but this day, this hour, this moment.
It was madness, but it was divine madness—the perfect end to a disastrous day. She was sick of thinking about consequences, about her own troubled emotions and the implications of everything that had happened ten years ago. She was sick of thinking, full stop. And, however else Dane had failed her—as a husband, as a friend—he had never failed her as a lover.
Still holding her wrists, he bent to kiss her lips, his mouth firm and demanding, before trailing kisses down her neck, across her collarbone. She rose off the bed, his groan a potent aphrodisiac as he licked at one pouting nipple.
A soft sob escaped her as he ran his tongue around the areola and then suckled the hard bud, making it swell against his lips into a bullet of need. She moaned, low and deep, as he bit into the tender flesh. Hunger arrowed down to her core. Sharp and sure and unstoppable. And then he transferred his attentions to the other breast.
She panted, writhing under the sensual torture. ‘Please, I need you...’
‘I know what you need, baby,’ he growled. ‘Open your eyes.’
She did as he demanded, to find his striking blue gaze locked on hers. Bracketing her wrists in one restraining hand, he watched her as he found her wet and wanting. She lifted her hips, pushing into the unbearably light caress as the moisture released.
She couldn’t think, couldn’t feel, her skin burned as his playful strokes had the pleasure swelling and then retreating, tempting and then denying.
‘Dane...’ His name came out on a broken cry. ‘Stop messing about.’
He barked out a harsh laugh, the fierce arousal in his face sending her senses into overdrive. ‘You want me to use my superpower?’
‘You know I do. You...’
Her angry words dissolved in a loud moan as he released her wrists to part her legs. Holding her open with his thumbs, he blew across the heated flesh. She bucked off the bed. The tiny contact unbearable.
She watched, transfixed, shaking with desire as his dark head bent and his tongue began to explore her slick folds. A thin, desperate cry tore from her throat as blunt fingers entered her, first one, then two, stretching her, torturing that hotspot deep inside only he knew would throw her over the edge.
She screamed, her fingers digging into his hair, urging him on as he set his mouth on her at last, suckling the swollen nub. She hurtled into glorious oblivion, exquisite rapture slamming into her as her senses exploded into a thousand shards of glittering light.
* * *
Dane lifted himself up, the lingering taste of her sweet and succulent, the need for release unbearable. She stared at him, her eyes wide, the sea-green dazed and wary, her body flushed with pleasure, her skin luminous.
Damn, but she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Even more beautiful than before. She’d lost that openness, that faith in him that had always scared the hell out of him, and now she had a million secrets of her own, but he could still zap her with his superpower.
The old joke made him smile—but the smile turned to a grimace as the insistent throbbing in his groin tipped from torment into torture.
If he didn’t get inside her in the next two seconds he was liable to embarrass himself.
Dane located the condoms in the front pocket of his jeans and grappled with his belt and shoved his pants down. He ripped open a foil packet and rolled on the protection. Grasping her hips, he lifted her up, then paused.
‘Tell me you want this.’
Tell me you want me.
The pathetic plea echoed in his head and made him tense. This was about sex and chemistry, pure and simple. Raw, rough, elemental. He didn’t need her approval. He just needed to be inside her.
‘You know I do,’ she said, bold and defiant.
He stopped thinking and plunged deep, burying himself to the hilt, then groaned, struggling to give her time to adjust before he began to move.
‘You okay? You’re so tight...’ His mind reeled, remembering it had been a while for her. Five years at least. His heady sense of victory at the thought was almost as insane as the delirious wish to be able to take her without a condom.
Draping her arms over his shoulders, she lifted herself up to angle her hips and take him deeper. ‘Just move.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said, laughing.
She was his. She had always been his in the only way that really meant anything.
