She said, “OK there, anyway.” Some laughter in her voice, because, yes, he had a hand on her breast again, and he wasn’t checking it for injury.
He was laughing, and she was, too, their bodies shaking. Her forehead against his, her mouth touching his, and then they weren’t laughing anymore, because he was over her now,the way he needed to be. Trying to touch everything, and feeling her doing the same.
It wasn’t civilized. It wasn’t beautiful. It was pulling at each other’s clothes, wrestling them off, then groping for each other in the dark. Constrained by the coffee table on one side and the couch on the other, but unwilling to stop long enough to shove the table away. Her hands on his hips, and him wanting nothing more than to slide straight inside her.
Wait,he tried to tell himself.Wait.He hadn’t … They couldn’t …
She was pulling at him, though. Pulling him into her.
Wait.
“Wait,” he said.
“Wait?” she said.“Wait?”It came out as more of a gasp. “No. Now.”
She’d never been demanding in bed, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to think about whether it was a good idea, or whatever else he wanted to stop and consider. She wanted todothis.
“Wait,” he said again. “I need to …” He rolled to the side and must have bumped into the coffee table, because he swore. She wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t.
His hands at her waist, pulling her up. “On the couch.”
“I don’t care,” she tried to explain. “About being comfortable. Comeon. Please.”Begging, and she didn’t care about that, either.
“Sit there.” But he wasn’t coming with her. Why wasn’t he comingwithher?
When he pushed her knees apart, she started getting the picture. It was so dark, and she couldn’t see him, but herhands were on his shoulders, his back, running over the bunched muscle there as he kissed her inner thigh.
He wouldn’t. Not first thing. Not before she’d even done anything to …
Oh. He would.
And he knew how to do it.
Oh.
My.
God.
When her thighs started stiffening, he got his hands on the backs of them and pushed them up. She made a sound, and he realized she’d been trying to be quiet. He didn’t say, “Don’t try. Let it go. Give it up,” because he didn’t need to. He just increased the pressure and the suction and the pace.
She went up like a firecracker, and she exploded just that hard. Shaking. Gasping. And, yes, making some noise.
He should do it again, but he couldn’t wait another minute. He needed to …
She was still gasping. She was also sliding off the couch and onto the floor. He couldn’t see, so he had to feel for her.
She was on her hands and knees.
Did his brain say “condom”? Maybe, but he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t. That’s because he was already inside her, and already losing his mind.
Hotter. Wetter. Deeper. He had a hand on her now, helping her out, and she was making more noise. Gasping, then keening. The sound was muffled, because she must have a hand over her mouth, and the excitement was rising higher in him. Her other hand must have collapsed under her, then, because she was on her elbows and knees, and oh, God. Oh, bloody hell. Oh…
She went over again. She pulled him right along with her.
Explosion.
It was a long time before either of them spoke. Zane’s body was heavy over hers, and she couldn’t care. If he’d been a weighted blanket before, he was so much more than that now.
