Page 49 of The Witness

“Yes. No.”

“Which one?” His hands pulled me up until I stood straight, plastered against him.

The heat of his body soaked through his clothes into my back. Cool air conditioning brushed over my front. The contrast made me obscenely aware of being naked. I shifted, grinding my ass against him as he cupped my breasts, his calloused thumbs rubbing agonizingly delicious circles over my nipples.

“These are nice and hard. Makes me think you're chilly.” He spoke in low sexy tones that made the fine hair on my arms stand on end.

I arched into him, my head back, giving him access to suck on my neck. I all but purred. His mouth and hands worked in tandem to raise my temperature near boiling.

“I’m definitely hot,” I murmured.

“Humm, let’s make sure.” One of his wicked hands slipped down between my thighs, spreading me open and cradling my center. “Fuck, that is scorching.”

He found my clit and began to rub and stroke. Occasionally, a long finger slipped inside me. I rode his hand shamelessly. The caress offered the oblivion I sought. His hard length, still trapped inside his pants, throbbed between us.

I shifted on my bare feet. My toes scraped against his dress shoes. Reaching behind me, I cupped his neck, my short nails digging hard into his skin. Oblivion beckoned. I whimpered and closed my eyes. Fireworks flashed behind my lids and my whole body pulled tight, then exploded.

I slumped into his chest, his hands and my shaking knees holding me upright.

“Michael.” I sighed his name slowly, dragging it out in four or five syllables.

“Feel better?” The slight scratch of his five o’clock shadow grazed my cheek.

“Oh, so much better.” I turned in his arms to face him.

I worked each button free, unwrapping the suit like he was the best Christmas present in the history of the world. Next, I shoved off his jacket and tossed it carelessly over a chair. Opening his white cotton shirt revealed the colorful art that scrolled over his rippling muscles. I ran my hands up to his shoulder, following the trail of a beautifully drawn vine, and dislodged the shirt. It puddled on the ground, forgotten.

I knelt down to slip off his shoes and socks. I worked slowly, glancing up to gauge his reaction. His eyes were wide, greedy to record every detail.

I attempted to encircle his ankles with my fingers and failed. Then I traced the long bones on the top of his feet. Michael was big everywhere; even the parts that should be delicate were thick and stout.

I caressed the arch of his foot and looked up at him, a playful smile on my lips. “Ticklish?”

He bit back a chuckle and nodded.

Who’d have thought a man so powerful would be ticklish? I captured the intimate detail and held it close. I treasured knowing his secret.

I sat on my heels and reached for his waist. His belt unbuckled, I went to work on the buttons and hooks of his pants, making sure I grazed his erection… repeatedly. I unzipped his pants as slowly as possible, dragging my fingers of my other hand up and down his length.

He cursed and his hips thrust forward. Our eyes met.

Oh Shit. Play time was over.

In the space of a single breath, he pulled me up from the ground and tossed me onto the bed. He shed his pants and briefs and hooked my legs over his shoulders. It was like being tackled by a lion. The white of his eyes and teeth glinted in the low light of the room, reinforcing how much he looked like a predator.

“Fuck, I’m so ready for you.” He lined up and eased inside me in a steady push until he’d seated himself to the hilt.

The angle made every inch feel monumental. I arched up to accept him, my body rippling around his invading length. I grabbed fistfuls of the sheets and held on for what came next.

He moved, thrusting into me like a jackhammer. I screamed loud enough to star in a bad porn movie, only I wasn’t acting. I was coming unglued. Cleaved apart with pleasure. I tore at the bedclothes and tossed my head from side to side. The pleasure was on the edge of too much, but at the same time it was undeniable perfection.

He didn’t slow down screwing me into the bed with the weight of his whole body. I’d feel echoes of this in the morning.

“More. Harder.” I gasped.

He did not disappoint.

The bed rattled against the wall. My last coherent thought was to wonder what would happen if we broke the frame. I didn’t really care. Not when ten thousand volts of electricity were racing from my clit to the top of my head and back.

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