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‘But …’ Before the objection could take shape, he silenced the protest, covering her lips with his. Her head bumped against the door, the slight click of the lock echoing like a mission bell.
His tongue probed, seeking, learning the contours of her mouth. Then he caught her bottom lip between his teeth. The tiny nip stung as he smiled at her.
‘No one can see in unless they have binoculars. And Phil’s not going to disturb us if he wants to keep his job.’
He bent to drag off her jeans and knickers, not waiting for a reply.
She stepped out of the garments in a daze of longing, the giddy rush of forbidden pleasure exciting her even more. When had she ever done anything so impulsive?
But, as he led her to the sofa, his hand clasped around hers, she felt her unfettered breasts sway under the unhooked bra, felt the hem of her T-shirt brush her naked thighs and the rush of air against her exposed sex—and stopped.
He looked over his shoulder, his eyebrow lifting a fraction.
‘Why am I practically naked and you’re fully clothed?’ she said.
His grin widened as he nodded. ‘Let’s remedy the situation.’ Crossing his arms, he grasped the hem of his T-shirt and lifted it over his head.
She stared at the play of muscles across his lean belly, then feasted on the sight of his beautifully sculpted chest. Wisps of hair grew around flat nipples, then tapered to a point that disappeared beneath his jeans.
Her tongue flicked out to moisten parched lips as he kicked off his loafers, untied his belt with practised efficiency and then propped himself on the arm of the sofa to strip off his jeans and boxer shorts. The mammoth erection sprung out from the nest of dark hair at his groin and she gaped.
She’d hoped he wouldn’t be as big. No such luck.
She heard the rough chuckle and looked up into hungry, heavy-lidded eyes glittering with amusement. ‘Stop worrying,’ he murmured as he took her hand, tugged her towards him.
‘Easy for you to say,’ she replied as the ridge of flesh touched her belly like a hot iron, sending shockwaves eddying to her core.
He laughed, the sound rich and full. ‘Let’s get you naked so we can get to the good bit.’
Her T-shirt and bra followed his clothes to the floor, leaving her quivering with a heady combination of anticipation and dread.
‘There now, isn’t that better?’ he said, the teasing glint still very much in evidence as one callused palm cupped her breast.
She sighed as he played with the rigid peak, ignoring the evidence of his arousal, still hot against her hip.
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nbsp; Then he dipped his head and circled the raw nerves with his tongue. She moaned, her fingers sinking into the soft waves of his hair as she luxuriated in the rough strokes of his tongue. Fire spiralled down, releasing slick juices as she trembled. Maybe a little discomfort was a small price to pay for this.
He lifted his head and she sucked in an unsteady breath as cooler air brushed her wet, fevered skin. Gripping her shoulders with firm hands, he turned her round until she felt the hot flesh butt against her bottom. He edged her forward, bending her over the sofa.
She quaked as the brutal erection touched the swollen folds of her sex. Feeling too exposed, too vulnerable, she tried to rise.
‘Shh, it’s okay,’ he whispered, his hands stroking her back, cradling her buttocks as he gentled her. ‘I can control the penetration better in this position.’ Then he drew his fingers through the curls at her centre, finding the hard nub. A strangled cry escaped as her body arched against the exquisite torture.
His fingers continued to play, building the waves of ecstasy as she listened to the muffled sounds of him sheathing himself. She started, pulled out of the reverie as the head of his penis probed.
She groaned, the guttural sound a plea as he sank into her in one long, slow, relentless thrust. She panted, ecstasy receding to be replaced by a fullness, a stretched feeling more than she could bear. She opened her mouth to tell him to stop, to tell him it was too much.
But the protest died in her throat as his knowing fingers caressed her again. He touched, stroked, teased, holding still inside her, until the shocking pleasure made her buck, lodging him to the hilt.
She sobbed as he began to move. The short careful thrusts, getting longer, harder, more demanding as the sure, relentless swell of pleasure built. She cried out as the waves of ecstasy rushed up and rolled over her, then receded, only to build again without pause, without reason. He grasped her hips, establishing a relentless rhythm.
She soared upwards, the wave swelling and crashing like a tsunami now, tumbling her over and thundering down to hurl her into oblivion in one mindless rush of pure rapture.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘I THINK I like immersion therapy.’ Maddy grinned as the hair of Rye’s chest tickled her cheek, his answering chuckle rumbling against her ear. They lay together on Phil’s sofa, gloriously naked, Rye’s long legs tangling with hers. She’d never felt more wanton or more wonderful in her life.
