“I know.” His answer tinged with wonder, his eyes dark as indigo. “Jesus. I know.”
She bent against his sweat-slicked shoulder, unable to bear the continued scrutiny. Tonight wasn’t about relieving tension or floating on the surface, belly-up, face tilted to the sun. No. It was sinking into the dark places full of raw want and animal need, a place where time hung suspended and wild currents pulled.
She needed this—him—and later it would freak her out. She could feel the fear inside, the cold knot pulling tight. The innate need to slam herself shut. Be protective.
But she’d deal with all that tomorrow. Right now the moment was too powerful, she was too hot, wet, and open.
She rode up and down his length, rubbing a tender spot inside. His mouth slanted over hers. Sweat against sweat. Heat everywhere. In traded breaths. In every nibbling kiss. In each lush, deep pump. She burned. There was nowhere he could touch fast enough. Her fingers locked on his muscular back, as they raced each other on, closer and closer to the edge. When she gasped, it was into him, and his answering groan exploded through her as the orgasm exploded.
In the hushed silence after, his reverent gaze skimmed her bare body, leaving a turbulent wake. She didn’t know what he saw, couldn’t dare a single peek if she wanted a prayer of believing in her “this was no big deal” story come morning.
Because this—whatever this was—felt big.
Huge.
