Page 22 of Tempting the Knight


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A keening cry ripped from her as she flew over that final peak, the pleasure cresting in a never ending wave. She clung to him as he rose over her, stunned by the intensity of her orgasm and the fierce approval in his gaze.

“Again,” he said, those deep green eyes fixed on her face. “I want to see you do that again.”

Ripping away her panties, he pulled her up until he sat on the bed and she straddled him. Large hands bracketed her hips, encouraging her, directing her, as she sank down on his thrusting cock.

Her mind reeled, the fullness stretching her unbearably, his penis impossibly large inside her. She gripped his shoulders, firm with muscle and, using her knees for leverage, rose up to impale herself again.

He swore, his fingers digging into her waist, and began pumping up to meet her. Going further, forcing her to take even more of him as they established a furious rhythm.

Shock warred with sensation, the rub of his cock making the heat build again.

The wave rose towards her like a tsunami, destroying everything in its path.

“I can’t come again,” she cried, sure she couldn’t because she never had before.

“Yes, you can,” he demanded, his thumb locating her clit to caress the very heart of her.

The second climax hit like a freight train, hard and fast and unstoppable. She sobbed, shattering into a million tiny pieces.

She heard his yell of completion, her pussy clenching on him as he followed her into oblivion.

He felt back onto the bed and she flopped on top of him. Exhausted, spent, and a little shaky. Her cheek nestled against his neck, the salty scent of his sweat a potent accompaniment to the funky smell of sex.

“Damn,” he murmured, the tone awestruck as his arms folded over her and gathered her close, his hands stroking her back to soothe and caress. “That wasn’t just an endorphin fix it was a freaking endorphin apocalypse. You’re amazing, Zelda.”

She pushed out a laugh, aware of the strange weight pressing under her breastbone at the compliment. She pulled out of his arms and lay on the bed beside him. The roll and sway of the water made the boat creak as she stared at the ceiling fan, stirring the muggy air and pebbling her flushed skin.

She shivered, the heavy weight still sitting on her chest, the unsteady beats of her heart punching her ribcage. How had he known just how to touch her, and tease her, and why had he held her like that afterwards. As if she mattered to him?

She lifted her arm above her head, letting it lie on the bed as she turned to him.

It’s just the sex talking. The seriously amazing sex talking.

“That was quite a work out, counselor,” she said, keeping her voice flippant.

But then he reached out to trace his fingertip over her cheek and her heart bobbed into her throat.

“Zelda, you really are incredible. Who knew bad girls could be so damn gorgeous?”

She captured his finger, to draw it away from her face, the weight starting to crush her. Sitting up, she scooted off the bed.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I need a shower.” She threw the words over her shoulder, scared to look back at him as she rushed into the bathroom, her legs trembling.

She closed the door and locked it, just in case Ty had any ideas about joining her. Then leaned on the sink and locked her knees to keep from falling on her arse.

Bloody hell, Madison, stop freaking out. You’ve had seriously amazing sex loads of times.

Maybe not an endorphin apocalypse. Not that she could remember anyway. But there was a lot of stuff from her drinking days she didn’t remember.

But who would ever have guessed there could be so much more to Mr. High and Mighty than just a sexy glare? The tender smile. The wry humor. His unexpected naughty streak. Not to mention his inventive fingers and phenomenal cock. Even that glimpse of vulnerability about his attachment to his family.

It was just the surprise. That had to be the cause of the boulder on her chest, because this was only a sex thing. It was not a caring thing. Or a liking thing. Because that could lead to a thing thing. And she didn’t do thing things. Ever. Especially not with men like Ty, who were sure and steady and idealistic and probably took thing things far too seriously.

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She turned on the shower and stepped under the lukewarm spray, trying to steady herself. And make the panic go away.

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