Page 64 of Rainwater
“What makes you think I don’t have fantasies of you, Corey?”
“Tell me,” he gasped, his breathing irregular and harsh.
“I know it’s not painted this way, but leave your hat on.”
His eyes blazed and his breath caught, his voice so gruff it was barely audible as he whispered against her mouth, “Jennifer, I’d be so lost without you, darlin’.”
“So why don’t you tell me your fantasy,” she whispered back.
“I dream of you doing to me only what a woman can. Only what she wants to do. What a man would give his heart for.”
His bare chest, smooth and sleek under the moon, drew her hands. “Are you willing to pay the price of your heart, Corey?”
“Jennifer, you already have my soul. I lost it the moment I looked into your eyes.”
“I love you, Corey. Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Touch me, Jennifer. My chest, my body, anywhere you want.”
Slowly she smoothed her hands over his chest, massaging his hardening nipples first with her fingertips then her tongue, biting him gently and suckling his hot sensitive skin.
Her hand went to the hard ridge of flesh beneath his jeans. She caressed him through the fabric, liking the small anguished moan that rumbled in his chest. She felt as if she were holding sheer power, controlling formidable strength beneath her hands.
“Now what, Corey?”
“Take my pants off.”
She did, easing the zipper down and pushing the denim and cotton briefs over his lean hips, careful of his damaged one.
“Jennifer,” he moaned.
She pushed him backward until his backside rested on the bike. Then as quickly as she could, she stripped. He reached out for her, but she slipped out of his grasp to kneel in the fragrant grass.
His cock jutted forward, so great was his need for her. She cupped him, taking the smooth, soft skin between her palms, causing his whole body to buck forward, straining, begging, demanding. She kissed the hollow of his hips with her lips and tongue.
His hands went into her hair, kneading her scalp with his strong artist’s hands.
Unable to restrain her desire any longer, she gave him his most erotic fantasy. He cried out, his hands turning into fists in her hair, his pleasure building with each movement of her mouth. When he couldn’t stand any more of the torturous pleasure, he reached down and grasped her upper arms, jerking her to her feet.
Swiftly he straddled the bike and pulled her over him. This was what he dreamed about late at night in his private torture, her straddling him in the dark of night, trusting him, loving him.
Jennifer got her wish as she peered into his face and saw the look she’d been craving. “Corey, love me, please.”
His hands came up to cup her breasts, taking first one hardened nipple into his mouth then the other. Her hands dug into his shoulders, the only thing that kept her anchored to the ground. He worshiped her with his mouth, sensations strong and hot pouring through her body. She squirmed on his lap. Her head fell back and her lips parted, unable to bear the fire he was building inside her.
He buried his face between her breasts and his hands traveled like liquid flame down her body to wrap around her waist. With a guttural groan of sheer carnal desire, he lowered her. His arms bunched as he lifted and lowered her. She felt as if she’d lost control of her body—as she accepted the savagery of his lovemaking, merging and meeting him on the same plane.
She could feel his back muscles flex as he held them both on the bike and thrust his hips while lifting her in the delicious up-and-down motion. He was so powerful and so thoroughly male, taking her higher and higher with quick, wild thrusts. The scalding pleasure detonated in them suddenly with a powerful backlash of force. He poured himself into her as she spasmed around the slick heat of his arousal, and they knew rapture.
They held on to each other in the aftermath, enjoying the soft, warm breeze against their bodies and the glorious feel of each other.
Jennifer held on to him, knowing this was a night she would never forget as long as she lived. She would never forget the fierce rush of emotions, the aching need that only he could assuage. The sheer power of their joining. A union of two parts to make a whole.
They dressed quietly and rode back to her house in silence. She took his hand, not sure whether he wanted to come into the house with her, but after a moment’s hesitation, he followed her.
The house felt chilled to her after the heat of their lovemaking. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, more for comfort than for cold. She needed to be prepared to hear that he wasn’t staying. She knew it, but it wasn’t the same as accepting it.
“Are you cold? Let me get you a blanket,” he said.
