Instant Gratification

It’d been so long. So damn long, and even so, she honestly had to admit, she’d never felt like this. Like she was going to die if he didn’t finish her off, like she didn’t have to struggle to get to the edge, didn’t have to try to orgasm because she was there on the very brink already. He held her there, damn him, held her there for an interminably long beat before he let her take the plunge.

She very nearly came right out of her own skin. Cradled by him, she shuddered and trembled, and shuddered some more, shocked at how easily it had barreled through her.

Stone lifted his head and lazily kissed his way up her body as if totally relaxed—except for the erection pressing against her hip.

She reached for him, managing to stroke him once before a rough rumble escaped his throat and he staggered to his feet. The light fell over him, revealing just how incredibly made he was. His chest was perfectly sculptured, his belly flat and six-packed, his thighs hard and powerful.

And between…God, between them he was just as glorious, but that was as far she got before he scooped her up against him and carried her through the living room, down a hall to his bedroom. He set her on the bed, then flicked on a lamp, which gave her a moment of self-awareness she could have done without. But then he moved into her line of view and she blessed the light because he was so beautifully made she could hardly stand it.

He had a condom, and she stared at it thinking good God, she’d have actually forgotten. For the first time in her life, she would have forgotten to have responsible sex.

Good thing he could think, because she was apparently beyond it, as proven when he ran a hand down her body, over her br**sts, her belly, to between her thighs, where she was wet and beyond ready. Apparently agreeing, he let out a heartfelt groan, knelt between her spread thighs and entered her.

With an arch of her back, she gave him entry, and when he pushed all the way into her, their twin gasps of pleasure echoed in her ears. She’d have thought she was finished after that last orgasm, but he began to move and she clutched at him, rocking to meet his every thrust, shocked at how good she felt, how high, how utterly filled.

He whispered her name, cupped her head in his big hands and kissed her as deeply as he was within her body, and when he lost himself and came with her name on his lips, she followed him over.

It took her a long time to come back to herself, but he didn’t seem to be in any hurry for her to. His mouth was against her throat, nuzzling. His muscles were still quaking faintly as he pressed his pelvis to hers, relishing the last of his pleasure.

And there’d been such pleasure. As she slowly came back to herself, she realized she was clutching him tight, digging her fingers into him. Yes, she was gripping his ass like a vice while still gasping for breath like she’d just run the marathon. With a sound of embarrassed regret, she started to pull free, but in what was perhaps the nicest moment of all, he didn’t move away from her, instead seemed content to stay and just kiss her neck, his hands slowly sweeping over her as if to help calm her.

Cuddling. They were cuddling. That’s when she remembered. She didn’t do the cuddle, never had, and she gave him a little push.

He obliged her by rolling off, but he didn’t go far. On his side now, he propped up his head with his hand. His other went to her hip, covering nearly the whole thing with just one warm, callused palm. An easy touch. A familiar touch.

Which, given what he’d just done to her—that being completely shattering her—he probably was feeling pretty damn familiar. Utterly unconcerned with his nudity, he smiled.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Good Lord, how had one guy gotten so sexy and cute at the same time? It seemed like an unfair disbursement of the goods, and if she ever stood in the line at the Pearly Gates, that would be the first thing she’d ask about.

But for now, she had places to go, people to see, things to do.

And a hot, sexy guy that threatened her very soul to get away from. Making her move, she shifted, getting to her belly before he slid a leg over her, holding her down. She turned her head and looked at him.

“Question,” he said lightly.

Seeing as she was pinned like a bug, she blew her hair from her face and did her best not to give herself away. “What?”

“Are you relaxed?”

Ha. “Let me go.”

“Because you were feeling pretty damn relaxed until about two seconds ago, when you realized you were hugging me for all you were worth. That’s when you got all uptight again.”

Okay, true. As was something else—she’d finally answered her own question on how his stubble would feel against her skin.

Like heaven. “Let me up now.”

His leg slid from her immediately. “My apologies.”

Fine. He was insulted. She’d deal with that later. She got out of the bed and realized her clothes were in the living room. Which was why she liked her affairs simple and in the dark.

He’d rolled to his back, hands behind his head, and was watching her from beneath lowered lashes, giving nothing of himself away.

Except, of course, the fact that he was sprawled out naked as the day he’d been born, revealing everything, anything she wanted to see.

Damn. To be that open. She whirled around, found one of his shirts and shoved it over her head, forgoing both panties and bra. On the other side of the country, her mother was rolling over in her grave.

Goodness, darling, you could have had Spencer. That boy’s a surgeon, and he’d have left the light off.