Sinners at the Altar (Page 59)

“Am I in trouble?”

He took a hesitant step forward, and she clutched his shirtfront in one hand before dragging him to the floor on top of her.

“You’re in huge trouble,” she said, tumbling him onto his back. “I’m sure the cops are on their way at this very moment to arrest you for indecent exposure.”

His eyes widened. “Quick! Hide the evidence.”

She grinned wickedly. “My pleasure.”

She straddled his hips and carefully arranged her skirts around them. “They’ll never find it now,” she said. “No one would ever think to look under there.”

His mouth dropped open as she rubbed her ass against his hard length. She wasn’t sure what had him so excited. Actually, Eric was always excited. She’d have been surprised if he weren’t.

“I think they might check under your skirt,” he said breathlessly. “Can’t you think of a better place to slip it into? Someplace warm and soft and slick.”

If her panties hadn’t been in the way, she’d have already slipped it into someplace warm and soft and slick.

One of his hands yanked her loosened bodice down so he could palm her breasts. His other hand was lost somewhere beneath the billowy cloud of her skirt.

“You’ll have to give me a hint,” she said. “Where do you want it?”

Beneath her skirt, his hands stroked her skin, slowly making its way toward the moist heat between her thighs. His fingers slipped beneath the elastic at the crotch of her panties. Her eyelids fluttered as he stroked her inner folds and teased her opening.

“This feels about right,” he whispered.

“It feels right to me.” She lifted her hips so he could guide himself into her.

She sank down on him with a sigh of pleasure. The panties cutting into her tender flesh delivered an unexpected thrill as she began to rise and fall over him. She took her time, rotating her hips to work him deep inside her body, staring into his eyes to work him deep inside her heart.

She didn’t fuck him like there was no tomorrow. She made love to him like there were infinite tomorrows that still wouldn’t be enough.

Chapter Eleven

Eric watched Rebekah through half-closed eyes because the feel of her above him, around him, made it difficult to hold his eyelids open at all. The floor at his back was hard, cool, and unyielding, but the woman above was all softness, warmth, and comfort—his personal bliss. The fading sunlight glowed orange through the windows on either side of the entry door and bathed his wife in the surreal golden aura of the divine, of someone gifted to him directly from the heavens. An angel. His angel.

And he was certain the pussy squeezing and tugging him toward oblivion was lined with warm, molten gold. Eric had had his share of Certified Grade A Pussy in his life, but Rebekah’s out-fucked them all. Which made it all but impossible to hold his desire in check.

He closed his eyes a moment and allowed himself to concentrate on nothing but the hot, slick flesh surrounding him. Tugging. Rubbing. Encompassing. His belly clenched and his balls tightened. He gasped as a hard spasm at the base of his cock made it jerk inside her.

“Rebekah?” he called breathlessly.

“Not yet, baby. Almost.”

He dug his fingertips into the hardwood beneath him and forced his orgasm back—knowing exploding inside her would feel fan-fucking-tastic now but would be even better if he could delay his gratification longer.

He pried his eyes open, needing to focus on something other than the feel of her rising and falling over his over sensitized length.

She was still aglow with the light of the sunset. Her chin-length blond and purple hair swayed each time her hips lowered. His gaze traveled down the delicate curve of her jaw, slender neck, prominent collarbones, and the gentle swells of her breasts above the cups of her lacy bra.

If only he’d thought to unhook it when he’d been pressed against her back earlier. He knew he couldn’t reach the hooks without shifting positions. As if reading his mind, Rebekah reached behind her back and released the clasp. When he glanced up, she smiled at him. Apparently his fixated gaze had made him easy to read. She slipped the straps down her arms and tossed the bra aside. His gaze wandered downward and he was blessed with the sight of her perky tits bouncing enticingly above the loosened bodice of her billowing white dress. He lifted a hand to cup one breast, stroking the rosy nipple at the center. She moaned, churning her hips to work her clit against him. She was close, he realized. He considered fumbling around beneath her dress until he found her center—he knew he could send her flying with a few strokes of her clit—but damned if she didn’t look hot with her tongue pressed against her upper lip and her eyes squeezed shut as she sought her release.

He plucked her nipple, and her back arched.

“Yes,” she groaned.

She rose and fell over him faster now. Harder. Pausing every few down strokes to rub herself against him, seeking fulfillment. Her moans became cries of ecstasy.

“Almost,” she said in a breathless gasp. “Eric. Eric!”

This still wasn’t easy for him—timing their orgasms so they could come together—but she was well worth the effort to try. He could hold back just long enough for her to come. He hoped. He fought the urge to help her along and clenched his eyes closed, concentrating on the feel of her around him, waiting, waiting for the feel of her pussy’s involuntary clenching as her body tumbled into the abyss. He was concentrating so hard on not coming that his orgasm took him by surprise.

“Oh shit! Rebekah,” he groaned. His hips lifted off the floor as hard pulses of pleasure gripped the base of his cock.