Page 13 of Wild Card

“Of course you can. And you will.” He doubled his tempo. Her sex shivered. Her thighs trembled. “Take it, sweet Jenny. All of me…and all of you, too. Let it all in, darlin’. Let it take over.”

On the last of it, his voice rolled through a bed of glass. Hearing the fray of his resistance just disintegrated hers. Pressure pulled and growled, jerking like a wild animal on a tether, until she had no more lead rope left for it. Once it ran the rein taut, she’d break.

And she did.

Only the animal didn’t tear loose from her.

The animal became her.

A scream, high and feral, burst from her lips. Heat, wild and wonderful, invaded her pussy. She could think of nothing, react to nothing, but the orgasm that tore her apart and the man who’d given it to her. She locked her legs against Sam’s back, urging him deeper, needing as much of his cock as she could get, longing for him to follow her into the shimmering, shattering abyss.

“Please,” she heard herself panting. “Oh God, Sam. Please. I need you here. I need—”

“Ssshhh. I know, sweet one. I know.”

But he didn’t. If he had, he’d be pounding into her harder, instead of kneading the top of her mound in that strange way. Then fucking her at that strange new angle. Then grunting hard, as if fighting to dead lift five hundred pounds instead of—

“Oh!”

Instead of making her feel like…

What on earth…

“What the hell is—”

That?

Her sex convulsed all over again. At least she thought it did. It was an orgasm, only better. Deeper. If she was an animal before, she was an alien life form now, gripped by sensations so new and wild, they pulled crazy, whining sounds from deep in her throat. Her hips couldn’t stop bucking. Her skin was electric…everywhere. And she was damn sure she’d never let Sam Mackenna pull his body out of hers after this—if she survived this.

“That’s my girl. That’s right. Let it happen.”

As if she had a choice. As if her trembling body—and his staggering skill—would let her consider a shutdown of this ecstasy. It moved through her like a tsunami, quiet but devastating, ripping her senses from their moorings, spinning her awareness into another galaxy. Screams tumbled from her, filled with thoughtless abandon and pure surrender, of I-don’t-give-a-damn-who-hears lust. It spurred Sam’s pace, doubling his thrusts. The slaps of their bodies were like erotic gunshots on the walls, dueling with passion and power, straining through every muscle in his body…through every inch of his cock.

“Jenny. Fuck!”

She didn’t recognize the third word that spilled out, something brutal and Gaelic and sexy, before he punched deep, clenched tight then moaned hard. His torso, encircled by her legs, coiled hard. His balls, flush against her ass, stiffened and pulsed.

His cock exploded deep inside her.

Her heart burst right along with it.

The knowledge that she could give this to him…that maybe, just maybe, he’d experienced a fraction of the bliss that she’d known…

Yeah. “Burst” was the best word for it.

She lay in pieces, uncaring about picking them all up. Not yet. Please not yet. For just a few moments more, she needed to let the fragments dance a little, basking in the heat and fire and miracle that was Sam Mackenna. A lover like she’d never known before. Would likely never know again…

“Hey.”

Sam’s anxious tone yanked her brain back to reality. Well, that was a start for getting her shit back together. “Huh? What?”

“You awrite?” His version of the expression, turning the last two words into one, never failed to melt her heart. “You’re not hurt anywhere, are you, mouse?” Not waiting for an answer, he unhitched the wrist cuffs then pulled out and rolled beside her. “Shit. I did hurt you. Where? How? Why didn’t you say—”

She pulled on his hair, forcing his head down until their lips slammed, before countering, “I would have said something, had there been anything to say.” Though she gentled her hold, she kept her fingers tangled in his copper waves. “I’m not hurt.”

At least not inthat way.

Damn it, not inany way. You read the manual on one-night stands, right? Chapter one, line one? “Though shalt not carry forth the pre-orgasmic feels into post-coital conversation”.

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