Apparently he liked her matching pink lace boy shorts.
“Your plane’s crashing.” His voice was low and husky, his eyes on her.
And a remarkable thing happened.
Kaci didn’t panic at his words. She didn’t go light-headed. She didn’t hyperventilate.
Instead, she straddled him on the couch, put her hands to his face, and hovered with her lips a whisper from his. “We’re doing this.”
“Damn well better be good.”
“That’s supposed to be my line.”
He snorted again. “You’re not making the rules on my time, Dr. Boudreaux.”
She’d let him believe that.
For now.
Because much as she enjoyed a good debate with Lance, she liked his lips on her more.
She licked his lower lip.
His eyes slid shut. He gripped her hair, thrust his hips against hers, and claimed her mouth.
She forgot everything except her desperate,driving need for release.
He pushed her onto her back, kissing her, stroking her, igniting every nerve ending she possessed, from her roots to her toes. Her skin was too tight, her muscles clenched too hard, her burning desire too big.
She was going to explode.
She shoved at his boxer briefs until she’d freed his erection and held him, hot and silky and heavy. He yanked on her panties. Something ripped and cool air rushed around her most sensitive parts. Her breasts ached in her bra, but it was a good ache. A needy ache. AnI’m readyache. Lance’s hot body and his wicked-talented mouth and hands swirled in one big, chaotic jumble of feelings over her body, in her brain, burrowing into her heart and soul.
“I need—” she started.
“No talking.”
She caught a flash of silver. He guided herhands, still holding his cock, and she helped him roll on a condom.
And then finally—finally—he pushed at her entrance and slid into her, filling her, stroking her, thrusting into her. Her feet dug into the cushions and she lifted her hips to take him in deeper, fuller, closer. She couldn’t tell if that was his ragged breathing or hers, and she didn’t care. That sweet wave was building deep inside her, bigger, stronger, closer?—
The world exploded around her, and suddenly she was falling, sparks erupting behind her eyes, her body pulsing out of control in the most intense climax she’d ever felt.
He moaned, and she felt him coming inside her, his shaft pulsing against her inner walls.
He dropped his head to the crook of her neck, his chest heaving against hers, his breath hot on her skin.
She couldn’t speak.
Because that wave inside her had carried beyond the basics of coupling. It made her chest squeeze, her heart spin as though it were locked in a centrifuge, and put a big ol’ lump at the base of her throat. Her stomach rolled. Her eyes stung.
Never had she felt so powerful yet so helpless.
Because this hadn’t just been sex.
That hadn’t been a normal orgasm.
It had been more.
