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Oh, yeah.
Then she spun around. And hesitated on her hands and knees over him. “I don’t know how to …” she began. “Aren’t we supposed to be … on our sides or something?”
He didn’t answer. That was because he was raising himself on his elbows, grabbing her hips, and pulling her straight down over him. She let out a gasp of surprise, her thighs slid a bit farther apart, and he got his mouth on her and started to suck.
She made a noise he’d never heard. He’d swear it was a meow. Then she kept on making it. His hands were on her arse, then her thighs, rubbing her, holding her, and she was already rocking.
“Oh,” he heard dimly from somewhere down there. “Oh, I’m supposed to …”
And then she did.
Bloody, bloodyhell.His mouth was full of warm, wet woman. His hands were around those thighs. And his head was exploding.
* * *
This had alwayssounded way too complicated, and it was. She’d freeze, wanting to focus on what he was doing, then remember whatshewas supposed to be doing. It was frustrating. It was maddening.
It was making her crazy.
Now he was doing it even better. The man had atongue.
He had lips, too.
Oh.
My.
God.
Whoops. She tried to restart things on her end. And couldn’t. She was gasping around him, her hands stiffening against the mattress. Not working to focus on what she was feeling, but totally unable tonotfocus on it. She started to shake, and the thing was upon her. Not creeping up, having to be coaxed along tenderly. Crashing over her like a monster wave that you hadn’t prepared for. You couldn’t dive under it or fling yourself over it, because it was here, tumbling you, and you were …
You were …
Helpless.
Out of control.
Caught.
* * *
She’d saidshe couldn’t make noise. Seemed to him she couldn’tnotmake noise, because she was sure as hell doing it. Her entire body shaking, shuddering, until he had to grab her harder and dig his fingers in just to hold her there.
She came like the storm had her. And when he held her tighter and kept it up, she did it again. She was still shaking, in fact, when he shoved her off him and climbed out from under her.
“Wh—what?” She was trying to sit up on her knees, but her arms had possibly gone wobbly. “I was supposed to—I need to—”
He didn’t listen. He shoved her back down with a hand between her shoulder blades, grabbed her hips again, and …
Froze.
“Shit.” It was a groan. “I have a condom. Upstairs.” A pack of them, bought in a burst of ridiculous optimism on his last grocery trip, when he’d slipped the little box under the paper towels in the trolley while Janey was dawdling, because they were in the feminine hygiene aisle and she’d said she couldn’t walk there with him.
He didnotneed to have this thought right now.
“Up—upstairs?” She still was hardly able to talk, and he needed to be inside her.
“Yeah,” he said. “Don’t move.”
