Page 13 of Brage & Dinah

He hooked her neck, bringing her forward, and claimed her mouth. Walking her backward, he took her into the house and kicked the door shut.

Dinah slid her hands between his chest and his vest, pushing the leather off his shoulders. He tugged at the bottom of her shirt.

"Stop." She pushed his hands away and worked on the buttons. "Uniform. Can't ruin it."

He moved his pistol from underneath his belt to his back pocket, then undid his pants, letting them sag. Eyeing Dinah in the dark, he strained to see more of her body in the glow from the street light out in front of her house.

She pushed down her shorts, taking her panties off, too. He wanted more time to strip himself naked but wouldn't waste time taking off his boots or jeans.

Leaning over he dug in his pocket for a condom and rolled the protection on while Dinah removed her bra. The paleness of her breasts enticed him forward.

He held out his arm. She slipped her fingers into his hand. There was only a couch in the room, and he wanted nothing getting in their way.

Bending her, he went to the floor with her and settled between her legs. Braced on his elbows, he pushed her hair away from her face. He wanted to see her.

Last time with her was quick and impersonal.

He entered her slowing, taking in the way her eyes fluttered at the pressure of his cock going deep inside of her. His gut tightened, and he held still when all he wanted to do was pump inside of her.

The tight warmth she provided felt better than anything.

He moved slowly, short strokes, and held her head in his hands. "Don't close your eyes."

"I won't." She panted, grabbed on to his forearms. "I just..."

He stilled. "What?"

She tried to shake her head, but he wouldn't let her. He wanted to hear what she had to say.

"Doing this once was one thing." She closed her mouth and swallowed. "I normally don't do one-night stands."

"Ja?"

Her brow lowered at the language slipping out of him. "Huh?"

She made him lose control. He was here to fuck, not become friends.

"It doesn't matter." He kissed her lightly. "Not a damn bit."

"It does to me." Her lips found his ear. "You make me feel good."

He raised his head. She'd gone serious on him. There was no flirting or bullshit in her confession.

He'd make her feel good.

Moving his pelvis, he lengthened his strokes. Sliding deep inside of her, he no longer wanted to pound her. He wanted to linger and watch the light come back into her eyes and feel the wisp of her breath on his neck.

Her fingers tightened on his forearms. She had nothing to fear. He wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't going to stop. He was going to bring her back to that place where satisfaction became a drug.

Her wetness coated the condom. The uninterrupted glide of his cock fueled her body. Caught up in her reaction, sweat broke out on his back. He should've stripped naked. He should've put her on a bed. He should've planned tonight.

Instead, he moved the way his body commanded. The way she needed. The way he wanted.

"Oh." She inhaled swiftly, arching her neck. "So good."

She hooked her ankles underneath his ass. He pumped into her, his body going crazy with her wrapped around him.

It was better than good.

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