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She couldn’t help it, she giggled, the audacious comment making her abdomen tremble with anticipation.
I’ll just bet you do.
Her fingers caressed the bunched muscles of his shoulder blades and fisted in the short hair at his nape.
‘Talk is cheap, Westmore,’ she teased, pulling him down. The comforting weight of him anchored her to the mattress. ‘Where’s the proof?’
He didn’t need to be asked twice.
She panted, sobbed, adjusting to the aching fullness as he lodged deep inside her in one long, solid thrust.
Establishing a rhythm, he forced her to take the full measure of him. She wrapped her legs round his waist, held on to sweat-slicked shoulders as she moved with him. His answering grunts rasped in her ears as the brutal heat eddied up from her toes, shimmering through her body and washing over her in ever growing waves of pleasure so intense she fought to hold them back—clinging to the wild need to make him shatter first.
He shifted suddenly, pressed one hot palm to her midriff, then found her clitoris with seeking fingers.
‘No, don’t,’ she cried. But it was too late. His knowing fingers triggered the wild cry of release as another mind-blowing orgasm slammed into her with the force of a fist.
She could barely hear his harsh shout as he crashed over the same brutal edge a few seconds later.
Cal braced himself on unsteady arms and drew out, groaning as her body released him. He rolled onto his back, grateful that he’d managed to avoid collapsing on top of her.
That had been incredible. He cursed under his breath. Not incredible, more like mind-altering.
He twisted round to stare at the woman beside him. She was staring back at him, her chocolate-brown eyes glazed and unfocused, as if she’d survived a war.
He knew how she felt. His skin felt tight, his mind fuzzy and his groin still hurt from the intensity of his orgasm.
He was a big fan of spectacular sex. But that had been a little too spectacular. He’d never experienced anything like it before. And he wasn’t altogether keen on surprises. They tended to be a lot harder to control.
She puffed out a gentle breath, an uncertain smile lifting the corner of her mouth.
‘I guess you proved it,’ she said.
‘Proved what?’
‘You do know what you’re doing.’
He huffed out a laugh, the reluctant compliment breaking the tension. ‘Thanks. I aim to please.’
He pushed the uneasiness to one side. What was the big problem? Yeah, the orgasm had been intense, but it was only to be expected, given how worked up he’d been, and how beautifully she responded to him. Plus when she’d revealed what she had downstairs—that before now she’d had to instruct guys on the fine art of the female orgasm—his competitive instinct had kicked in.
Reaching across, he brushed one errant curl behind her ear. The flash of reaction as she shifted away from his touch captivated him. She really was a bunch of contradictions, both bold and cautious, experienced and yet strangely untouched.
‘I should probably go home,’ she said.
He smiled to himself. Did she really think he was going to let her leave that easily?
‘Now why would you want to do that?’ He curled his hand round her neck and felt the hammer thuds of her pulse as he stroked his thumb under her chin. ‘We’ve only just got started.’
‘Oh, come on,’ she scoffed. ‘You can’t seriously be capable of doing it again so soon?’
‘That sounds like a challenge.’ He swept his hand down to her bottom. ‘And I should give you fair warning, I always rise to a challenge.’
She laughed incredulously.
But as he caressed the soft, scented flesh and heard her indrawn breath even he was a little astonished by his reaction. He hadn’t had powers of recovery this phenomenal since he’d been a teenager.
Go for it, Westmore, this is going to be a night to remember.
