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I wrenched at his pants, and he wriggled out of them with my help. Then his fingers hooked around the waist of my leggings. I lifted myself up so he could strip them and my panties off me, managing to wrap my hand around his erection and give it a few experimental strokes in the meantime.
“Fuck,” he muttered through clenched teeth, jerking into my grasp.
“Working on it,” I teased as if I wasn’t equally breathless, and snatched at the purse I’d left on the floor by the sofa.
My fingers snagged on the condom packet I’d been searching for. Quentin snatched it from my hand and tore it open, his gaze never leaving my face. I felt him prep himself beneath me and swallowed a whimper as the head of his cock rubbed over my pussy, which was drenched with longing.
As he pushed upward, I sank down. Our moans entwined as our bodies joined, his shaft filling me at just the right angle. The heady burn I’d been craving raced through my nerves.
“God,” Quentin mumbled. “I love seeing you on the ice, but this is my new favorite Lou.”
I conveyed my own enthusiasm with the roll of my hips over his. He sucked in a breath and thrust up to meet me, penetrating me even more fully. With every little grunt and growl, he showed how much I turned him on—and fanned the flames of my own desire hotter.
He gripped my thigh and bucked up into me even harder. I threw my head back, my vision blurring as my pleasure started to sweep me away. Plenty of sounds were spilling from my own lips—gasps and a keening I couldn’t hold in.
Quentin captured the tip of my breast in his mouth once more with a scrape of his teeth that had me whimpering. Then he lifted me high enough that he slid free from me.
His voice came out full of strained yearning. “Turn around. I want to take you as deep as I can go.”
I couldn’t resist the promise in his demand. I swiveled over him, and he yanked me back down, spearing me so abruptly and perfectly that stars swam in my vision.
Quentin raised his hand to cup my breast from behind. As I pushed back into his thrusts, he fondled it thoroughly, pinching and pulling at my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
My body shuddered with the rush of bliss blazing through me. “Yes, fuck, just like that!”
He leaned forward to nip at my shoulder blade, pounding into me all the while. The jolts of pain transformed into something blissful in combination with the giddy friction he was creating from within.
He was taking me, making me his, leaving his mark on me. He hissed against my skin, the pace of his hips quickening.
“You like how I fuck you?”
“Yes—hell, yes.”
He was panting now, but he managed to rasp out one more demand. “Say it. Let me hear how much you want this.”
My mind was so scrambled with pleasure it took a moment to form a complete sentence. “I love how you’re fucking me. Oh my God, keep going—”
My orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, crashing through me and leaving me washed out with ecstasy. My body shook over Quentin’s, every nerve tingling with the force of my release, and he let out a choked sound as he followed me over the edge. His cock pulsed inside me.
We sagged together in a jumble of sweaty limbs. As our breaths started to even out, Quentin rested his head against my shoulder and then grasped my waist again. “I want to see you.”
I turned in his arms and tipped my head so our foreheads met. Quentin touched my cheek, gazing up at me with so much emotion in those normally cool eyes that my pulse wobbled.
He didn’t speak, only searched my expression for several thumps of my heart before gathering me against his lean chest. As his arms wrapped around me, I relaxed into his embrace, drinking in his tart, musky scent.
“I’m not sure I ever really believed I’d get this,” he admitted after a few minutes in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. “The more I see you, the more I find out about what you’ve survived, the more incredible I realize you are.”
I swallowed thickly and nuzzled the side of his neck. “You just talk a good game with all that cockiness, huh?”
“Fake it ‘til you make it, right?” He gave a short laugh, and then a thread of tension wound through his muscles. “So… are we really doing this? Not just a ‘thank you for saving my life’ hookup—the whole relationship thing?”
He’d tried to keep his tone casual, but the fraught anticipation with which he waited for my answer told the real story. He wasn’t sure even now.
I tilted my head to look at him. “If that’s whatyouwant, I’m up for it.”
His voice thickened with emotion. “I don’t think there’s anything I’ve ever wanted more.”
A pang of affection and compassion reverberated through me at those words. Quentin had survived an awful lot too, and I didn’t know if he’d ever been able to admit it to anyone before now.
