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And then the couch collapsed.
~
“Oh!” Melinda couldn’t help her burst of laugher. It was too much: the heat of the moment, the insanity of their makeshift bed falling to pieces. Hold on, was it a futon? Of course it was a futon. The couch had simply done its job and flattened into a bed.
And then all thought vanished, because as the couch had shocked them with its crash, so Grant shocked her with his body as he climbed atop her, placed himself at her entrance and drove inside her. And with an aching gasp, she followed his lead. She arched and moaned, needing more, more fullness, more delicious pressure. She lifted her hips, captured his length with her sex, tilted her pelvis to swallow him whole.
Harder and harder he plunged into her. He was hurrying now, losing himself as she too became lost. Head bowed, Grant’s hand moved to her ass and again grabbed her with a ferocity that stopped just short of pain. She shrieked and dug her nails into his back, legs strung like a bow around his back to urge him deeper. He complied and rolled his hips, so that Melinda felt full with him to her throat.
Her pelvis tilted to his and she met his pounding with the sensitive nub at her core. She was coiling, building. His body crashed over hers and she was the shore, pummeled, driven, carved, bathed. Deep moans took shape and he trapped them with his mouth.
And then it became too much.
Her hands couldn’t find where to be and she flung them wide only for him to catch and pin them above her head with a growl. The immobility freed her body to arch with pleasure, to loose her scream, and it echoed as if from someone else’s lungs. Her orgasm lapped at her legs and swallowed her whole. She was dimly aware of Grant’s groans as his body clenched and released over hers.
Time stopped. All was one. Nothing was cold, nothing was hot, no one was captive, no one captor. There was no guilt, no uncertainty, no remorse or remembering. They lay still together, existing only as deep, ragged breaths that blossomed and collapsed in a mist around them.
Grant let his head drop from his shoulders against her neck and he nuzzled her. Eyes closed, Melinda nuzzled back, the movement almost unconscious.
Slowly the room reappeared, and with it the cold. Sensation returned in the form of a throw pillow half-under her head, a blanket wedged beneath her back.
Was this okay? Was she okay? Would they be okay?
They weren’t even a they.
Were they a they?
Melinda didn’t know. She didn’t know anything.
Well, she knew she had to say something. The silence couldn’t stand. Figure it out, Sen.
“Five stars,” she whispered.
“What?”
“I’ve been preparing my review since the airport,” she choked back laughter.
Grant’s chortle shook the couch-turned-futon as he flopped beside her.
“Well hell, that can’t be good.” With effort, he propped himself on his right arm, this time to kiss the corner of her mouth and fling one massive leg over hers.
“It got a little dark in parts...” His guffaw interrupted her monologue but she persisted. “But after the whole head injury/rescuing thing, and then this sex stuff, you really turned it around. So. Five stars.”
Grant slid an arm around her and flipped her body atop his.
“No fair!” Melinda pushed feebly away from him. “I’m still reassembling all my cells after they exploded. I can’t be expected to support myself.”
Grant’s lips found her ear, his breath found her neck. Warm hands swept up her back, his feet curled around hers, enfolding her in gentleness.
“You don’t have to do anything,” he murmured. “Just be with me.”
So Melinda shifted her limp body over his solid one. She dimly felt him reach under the futon and fling blankets over her cooling body. She heard his rumble of contentment, felt his kiss at her temple, and allowed sleep to lure her into its dark possession.
~
Grant studied the vaulted ceiling. If he didn’t get this condom off soon it would be permanently adhered to him, and that part of his anatomy was decidedly opposed to that. But Melinda was asleep. On him. Poured, melted, crumpled on top of him as she breathed in and out and smelled like heaven.
And what’s heaven exactly?his mind challenged. Spices, he shot back. Warmth. Her incredible skin. Grant turned his face into her hair and inhaled. Cardamom?
