Page 78 of The Witness

Her moans were soft with sleep but still urgent with need, a juxtaposition of two deep-seated desires. I would be sure that want triumphed. I rolled the firm bud of her sex between two fingers.

She gasped my name on a shudder. Her body pulled taut as the first shimmering wave of release washed over her. She arched her spine, putting a few scant inches between us. Her hand snaked back and grasped my cock.

“Siren.” It was a plea she didn’t heed. I worked my fingers on her clit harder.

As she crested another wave, her grip became painfully tight. My length throbbed against the delicious constraint.

Her pleasure was mine. I wanted all of it. Every gasp and tremor. The Christmas gift of my dreams.

“Come, keep coming,” I whispered into her ear. She nodded her head into the pillow and rode my hand with renewed energy. Her hold on my length didn’t loosen, and I thrust into her fist, my dick so hard it could have been made of steel.

She was nearly sobbing with pleasure. It wasn’t enough. I had to have more. Once more, I guided her through another, stronger wave of ecstasy.

Her grip loosened on my cock, and I rolled above her. I fit my hips between her trembling thighs.

She’d done this to me. I was a rational man. Always a considerate lover, but after a week apart from her, I was insatiable. It had never been like this with a woman. I made her come until actual tears trickled down her cheeks. It was glorious. I was insane.

I bent my head and kissed away the glistening drop of salt. It tasted like bliss.

“Can you take more?” The question was moot. My cock was already slipping slowly into her heat.

Her knees fell open and her arms wrapped around me. “Always more of you. Always.”

I felt at once so powerful and so weak. Overwhelmed by her. I didn’t deserve any part of her. Not her body. Not her time. Not her consideration. But I had all those things. And I’d be damned if I let go of them without a fight.

“Take it.” My words weren’t a demand. They were a gently whispered prayer.

I looked into her eyes, and we moved together. Our hips rolled in a matching rhythm. The pace was as slow as a waltz. I glided in and out of her in regular deep thrusts that fed my hunger. Thiswas possession. I took, but so did she. We were claiming each other.

We’d had sex, plenty of it. But this was different. It had a soul-searching depth that had never been part of our prior couplings. It should have scared the shit out of me. Yet, it didn’t. This relationship was so much more than those in my past.

She uncurled one arm from around my shoulders and found my hand, twining our fingers together. Another connection.

I held her gaze, wishing I knew how to explain what I felt. Tell her I’d do better by her. Be a supporter, not a hero. Give her the part of myself I held back from others. But I didn’t have the words.

I closed my eyes and buried my face in the bend of her neck, the primal need of my body taking over. I hitched a hand under her hip, pulling her up into my deep hard thrusts. She gasped my name and asked for more. That I could give.

Passion built to a tremendous crescendo that when it reached its peak took us both to new heights before crashing us down into a limp, exhausted tangle.

I used my remaining strength to roll to her side so I didn’t crush her. Leaning on an elbow, I pulled a few strands of sweat-tangled hair from her face. I cupped her cheek and traced the fine bones of her face with my thumb. I lingered over the spiderweb of laugh lines at the corner of her eye.

She licked her dry lips before breathing out the question. “What was that?”

“A Christmas present.” I dipped my head and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

She shook her head. “That was more than a present.”

“I know.” I pressed my forehead to hers so I wouldn’t have to look into her eyes. Her intense gaze would see everything. The mess of ideas and emotions that she’d caused.

The silence stretched long and heavy.

“I don’t deserve a woman like you.”

Chapter 35

Sabrina

The small ranch house was neat and tidy. A red bow on the front door was the only nod to the season. The Boynton Beach community of Tidewater was one of hundreds of sixty-five and over developments in South Florida. It wasn’t fancy enough for a guarded gate but had a resort style community pool.

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