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He pushed into her,so slowly. It was a delicious stretch, one that had her toes curling—she’d thought that was just a figure of speech—and her hands gripping his back to encourage him in faster.
Only he took his sweet time, his breath coming in hot pants as he groaned. “That’s right, love. Open for me. I’ve never felt anything so good. Yes, love, like that.”
She rolled her hips, gratified by his long moan and tensing of his muscles. His teeth scraped her neck and his hands tangled in her hair as he brought his mouth to hers.
It was less a kiss than a possession. In it, she could feel everything they hadn’t said to each other yet, the hopes and promises. Her hands moved down to his butt—gosh, it was taut—and held on there, urging him in the rest of the way.
And then he was.
They stilled, both of them panting, staring at each other.
“Do you feel it, love?” he asked, his voice gravelly. “It feels perfect.”
She caressed his cheek. “Like I’ve found something I didn’t know I was missing,” she replied softly.
He lowered his mouth and kissed her reverently, sweetly. And then he looked her directly in her eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Saying it was as natural as breathing.
He twined her hand in his, holding it next to her head, as he began to slowly move in and out of her.
She hooked her ankles behind his waist, moving in concert with him as she urged him faster. “More.”
He let go of her hand and slid his between their bodies, his thumb finding that sweet spot without any trouble.
“Oh my,” she gasped, arching up. Electric currents shot through her body, and she started to sweat with the pleasure of it. “Maybe I want less after all.”
“Too late,” he said with a chuckle, and then he pressed and rubbed with the perfect amount of pressure that brought on her climaxhard.
She heard someone cry out in ecstasy and only realized it was her after the fact. But she couldn’t help it—the way he glided his thumb over her, never letting up, drove her on, causing the waves to keep crashing over her until she opened her mouth to tell him to stop.
Only she couldn’t say anything coherent. And then all she could do was whimper as she felt another explosion burst through her.
At her third orgasm, he started moving in and out of her faster, plucking and pinching her between his thumb and finger.
She arched up into his touch, rolling her hips into him, everything spinning. “I’m going to die,” she said, holding on to him.
He half moaned, half laughed against her neck. “Want me to stop?”
“No.” She took his hair in a death grip. “Don’t you dare.”
Her next orgasm caught her unawares, shooting through her so suddenly and without warning that she screamed. She felt him get impossibly harder inside her and then heard him call out her name. The ripples of his climax set off another one, smaller this time but no less profound.
She wilted under him, breathing heavily, sweating, unable to move. She felt his panting breath on her skin and shivered.
He started to shift off her.
She tightened her arms around him. “Stay.”
His body relaxed against her. She waited for him to soften inside her, but he was still pretty hard. She rolled her hips, testing to see what would happen.
He surged with life.
Blinking in shock, she blurted, “Seriously?”
“What?” He lifted his head to look at her. “Still okay?”
“Better than okay.” She wiggled her hips. “But you seem to still be, um, tumescent.”
