Page 59 of In This Moment

She inhaled, lids at half mast, cheeks flushed.

Oh yeah. He adored her avid response to him. Still watching, he kissed his way lower, and her pupils swallowed her irises. Inner thigh. Kissing one, then the other. Her lips parted as if oxygen was in short supply.

And then he buried his face in her short golden curls.

She gasped, fisting the pillow.

Smiling, he flicked her tiny little nub with the tip of his tongue, parted her wet folds, and groaned against her. Responsive, she bucked, seeking more, to which he was only happy to oblige. He learned her body, her pleasures, and relished every moan, gasp, and tremor until her body went rigid. A sharp cry, and she threw her head back, limbs vibrating as she came.

Hard, throbbing, he shucked his briefs while she recuperated. He climbed over her on all fours before she’d opened her eyes and sucked her nipple between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Another tremble, and her hands were back in his hair, fisting the strands. Groaning, he kissed his way to behind her ear, slid his hands between her perfect backside and the sheets, and thrust against her swollen wet folds. She emitted the most delicious, detrimental to his well-being sound of inclination he’d ever heard.

Needing inside her, he crushed his mouth to hers, aligned his hips, and thrust.

Stars. He actually thought he saw stars, until he realized his eyes were shut. Damn, she was… Tight. Hot. And made just for him, the fit was that right.

He paused, giving her a moment. Or maybe he needed one. Regardless, he buried his face in her strands and tried for all he was worth not to say or do anything stupid. Breathing labored, he skimmed his hand up and down her outer thigh, cherishing the feel of her under him. Around him. Inside him, it seemed, now that they’d taken things to this level. She was all he could breathe, hear, or see. All he could taste or feel.

But then she moved. That thin tether he’d had earlier snapped as her legs wrapped around him, her arms held him, and she ground her hips, seeking more.

He had the stray thought he’d give her everything as he withdrew achingly and methodically from her. Only when he thrust anew did he seem to find purchase amidst the firestorm in his head. Pleasure ran rampant through his system, unlike anything he’d known before. The connection between them heightened the experience, put them in sync. It was too much and not enough.

She kissed his jaw, trailed her lips to that tender spot between his neck and shoulder. He pumped harder, rolling his hips to ground her clit, while she assaulted his nerve endings. So beautiful, the way she moved. Languid and graceful. Submissive, but wielding all the power. Giving and taking.

They seemed to fuse, and not just their bodies. Becoming one, yet not even close to similar. Joining. Merging.

Just when he thought he couldn’t hold out much longer, she bowed, bringing them even closer, and her walls gripped him in a vise. She trembled, emitting a cry of satisfaction that penetrated his ears and reverberated in his skull.

A tingle shot up his spine, and he followed her over the edge. He tensed, mouth open over hers, as he came undone. His arms gave out, and he collapsed on top of her, fighting for oxygen exchange.

Moments passed while he tried to recover. She held him, warm hands stroking his back, and their legs tangled. It should be the other way around. He should be holding her, but she offered a sense of reprieve he hadn’t felt since his life erupted in Minnesota. Comfort, safety, and peace. Gratification. Selfishly, he took it, in case it never came again.

Toying with the ends of her hair, he tried to recall what they’d been discussing before she’d had the brilliant idea of asking what was on his mind. Wait. No, she’d asked how he’d felt. A sluggish, methodical laugh rumbled in his chest, emerging as a tired chuckle.

Turning her head, she pressed her lips to his forehead. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re not unsatisfying in the sack. Your ex is an idiot. The biggest idiot in all the land.”

She paused her stroking across his back, and he could all but hear the gears turning in her head. “Thank you.” Combing her fingers through his hair, she let out a quiet sigh. “Maybe you’re just better at it.”

What? Nuh uh. He lifted his head. “Maybe?”

She grinned, leveling kingdoms. “No maybe about it.” She brushed her knuckles across the whiskers on his jaw, gaze following the movement. “At the risk of sounding cliché and going to reporter hell, that was pretty amazing.”

His inner caveman wanted to pound his chest and preen. He settled for accepting the compliment as she’d done. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Most guys clam up or tuck tail and run for the hills when asked about their feelings.” The teasing amusement in her tone and illuminating in her eyes was cute. Playful with a side of sass.

He hadn’t actually spouted feelings, though. He’d shown them instead. And there were definitely feelings involved. What they were precisely, he didn’t know yet, but they were present. Hovering in his peripheral. Poking at his chest. “Stereotypes are yesterday’s headlines.”

A laugh, and she covered her face with her hand.

He rolled them to their sides, still facing one another, and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. It had grown quiet in the room, and he glanced at the TV. The title page was floating around the screen, indicating their movie had ended.

He grunted. “Great film.”

She laughed again, and he figured he wouldn’t mind spending an eternity getting her to do it often. Every hour on the hour. “It was great. We should watch it again.”

“Inuendo accepted, Rebecca.” Wasn’t she a gem. “I need to let the dog out. Give me some time to recuperate.”

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