“I don’t care about that. You’re still you. That’s what I really wanted.”
His eyes darkened, his gaze slipping down her face to her lips, hovering there. “I dreamed of you, too.” His hand slipped into the hair at the nape of her neck, lifting her face to his. “But my dreams didn’t stop at kissing.”
Adrenaline surged into her bloodstream, a pulse beating between her legs. Memories of him swarmed like bees, from the first time he penetrated her, taking her virginity, to the desperation of teenage lust, searching for release.
His hand moved from her neck to her collarbone, trailing sensation as he traced the outline of her breast and moved lower. His big hand slid around her midriff and farther to cup her derriere.
Her eyelids grew heavy as he held her against his hardening erection, and she fitted her torso more completely against his, her arms coming to circle his neck as she kissed his jaw, his stubble abrading her lips.
Then he was kissing her, deep, demanding kisses that flooded all rational thought. There was only feeling, only emotion, only the desperate need to be as close to him as possible.
His hands slipped under her shirt, lifting it over her head in one smooth motion. His hand moved to her lace-covered breast, taking its fullness in his palm and kneading it before circling her nipple with his thumb.
Her back arched in response, thrusting her rib cage closer to him, and he pulled the cup of her bra down to expose her fully. She felt the warmth of his breath before he took her in his mouth, licking and suckling her deep.
She bucked wildly against him, desperate for these feelings only he could bring, and her nails dug into the flesh of his lower back. “Sloan,” she said on a moan, needing him to know what he was doing to her, needing to connect with him even more than he was doing now.
His head came up and he kissed her, lifting her with his powerful arm and all but dragging her to the bed. He followed her down, the planes of his body accentuated by shadow, and she reached out to touch every inch of his flesh.
The scent of his body was heady and familiar as her hands raked over his chest. She bent to kiss his nipple, the taste of his salty skin further fanning her desire. She moved up to his neck, kissing him there as her hands reached down to unbutton his jeans.
“Jesus, Jo,” he ground out under his breath, helping her get his pants off and shucking them down his legs.
He wore black briefs, his cock tenting the fabric, and her hands moved over it, outlining his sensitive shaft and cupping his balls before stroking them tenderly.
His breath caught, its rhythm faster now, and she longed to push him closer to the edge. Sliding her body down the bed, she kissed him through the fabric where her hands had been, loving how he cursed and twisted beneath her.
She hadn’t given oral sex in years, hadn’t wanted to, but now she was as desperate to taste him as she was to receive his attention. Slipping her hand beneath the material, she fisted her fingers around his firm shaft and breathed heavily on the fabric-covered tip. “God, yes,” he ground out, and she pulled down the waistband, exposing him completely.
His cock was glorious, thick and wide, and she licked the bulbous head before taking him in her mouth, instantly remembering what he liked. She teased him, sinking onto him slowly before taking as much as she could and loving every groan and hiss of his reaction.
Then he was pulling her up, wrestling her onto her back and assaulting her with a sensual attack. His mouth was back on her breast while his hand moved down to skillfully stroke the sensitive seam of her sex. Her legs fell open at his touch, hungry for more.
His stubble lightly abraded her abdomen as he moved lower, reverently kissing her skin until he reached the inside of her thigh and stopped. “So beautiful,” he whispered, his fingers tracing her swollen lips before slowly slipping deep inside her.
She bucked against the mattress. Then his tongue was on her clitoris, a wave of sensation building as his fingers moved to the rhythm of his mouth.
No one else had loved her like this. No one had tasted and touched as if he were receiving a precious gift, and she longed to hold him inside her and never let go. “Please,” she begged, not wanting to reach orgasm without him. “I need you now.”
He rolled onto his back beside her and she straddled him, experiencing only a flash of concern as she sank down on his bare shaft. She thought of the condom in his wallet. They had never used one before, but she’d been on the pill back when they’d been dating. She wasn’t on the pill now.
He filled her completely, and it felt so deliciously good she couldn’t bear the thought of stopping. It was lunacy and she knew it, consequences be damned.
His hands moved to her waist and she instinctively jerked away from his cold prosthetic, but he held her there, moving her hips onto him as he thrust beneath her.
She was frantic now, her body racing toward release, and she pumped as quickly as she could until the orgasm came, unable to move in the moment.
He flipped her over, bracing himself on his good arm as he drove into her again and again, finally joining her in sexual oblivion.
22
Sloan stared at the ceiling, Joanne sleeping soundly on his shoulder as he absently stroked her skin. He’d slept for a few hours but had woken shortly before four, unable to get back to sleep.
He was blown away.
He’d slept with plenty of women since this one, but none of them compared. It wasn’t a physical comparison but a spiritual one. He hadn’t been as connected to any of them as he’d always been to Joanne, and that was a problem.
Making love to her was like picking up where they’d left off years before, and he was suddenly concerned with all the reasons he’d dropped out of that race in the first place. Jo had changed the rules on him halfway around the track, asking him to marry her and take her away from her abusive father forever.
