he pushed right into her.
“Ah, Dante.”
“You feel so good. Jesus, Kara.”
Pleasure was as liquid as the fall of the shower: that hot, that sinuous. It moved through her body, undulating, then building as he thrust into her, over and over. His mouth was on hers, kissing her, nipping at her lips. And every driving thrust of his hips, every bite of his sharp teeth, was like a small orgasm in itself.
The sensation of him sliding into her, then pulling out, was exquisite. Overwhelming. That and her body still buzzing with her climax. Her head buzzing with the things she had learned about herself, about the power exchange he’d tried to explain to her, but which she was just coming to really understand.
His skin was impossibly soft under her hands and she gripped his shoulders, her nails biting into the skin. She needed it, somehow. It was too intense; she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help her rasping breath, the arching of her hips into his, wanting to take him deeper.
As the steam rose around them, enveloping them in its warm embrace, they both came. They called each other’s names, their hips clashing together. It was all need and shattering fulfillment. Wet flesh and a pure, startling pleasure. And Kara let it all go—her body, her mind—and sank into it. Into Dante. Let herself, for the first time, become utterly lost.
five
Kara sat behind the desk in her office, sipping from the extra tall, double-shot latte she’d needed that morning. She was tired—exhausted—and a little sore from her weekend with Dante.
Dante . . .
God, the man was insatiable. She had been, too. They’d barely gotten out of bed the entire weekend—or the shower, where they’d had sex at least four times. Dante really did have a thing for the water. She didn’t mind. She’d loved it, in fact. Loved the clean scent of his soap, the steamy air. He’d taught her to really tune in to sensation, and the water was incredible on her skin. Even showering at home this morning after he’d dropped her off had had a newly sensual aura to it.
It had been the most amazing weekend, and when they’d woken up early this morning she hadn’t wanted it to be over. But it was Monday, and time for work. Not that she’d be able to concentrate on a single thing. She was sleep deprived, worn-out, sore in all the best places. And thinking of Dante.
He hadn’t been ready for her to leave, either. That had been clear enough when he’d woken her at five thirty to have sex. Slipping into her while they were both groggy, half-asleep, his hips pumping until they’d both come, gasping their pleasure into the still morning air.
No matter how many times they’d done it over the weekend, he was still hard for her. And there was something she loved about that predawn sex, when they were both still half-asleep. He was irresistible, with his mussed hair, the dark, scratchy stubble on his chin. It made him seem more male. More primal. There was something almost surreal about it. Almost romantic.
Don’t go there .
She sipped her coffee, letting the heat relax her a little. She wasn’t a romantic kind of girl. The last of that had been killed off with Jake. No matter how hot the sex was with Dante, she would remember that it was just that: sex.
The hottest, most intense sex she’d ever had.
Still, nothing more than sex.
She was fine with that. Just an intense chemical connection. No strings. They’d known each other for so long that it was comfortable, too, even if they hadn’t kept in touch over the years. He was familiar enough that it didn’t feel as if she were sleeping with a complete stranger. Friendly but casual, nothing more. But she was glad Dante had said he’d call her today, that they’d see each other again.
She sank back in her chair, taking another slug of her coffee, and stared out the window, which overlooked downtown Seattle. It was raining a little. She didn’t mind it. It gave her a sense of being cocooned,
“Ah, Dante.”
“You feel so good. Jesus, Kara.”
Pleasure was as liquid as the fall of the shower: that hot, that sinuous. It moved through her body, undulating, then building as he thrust into her, over and over. His mouth was on hers, kissing her, nipping at her lips. And every driving thrust of his hips, every bite of his sharp teeth, was like a small orgasm in itself.
The sensation of him sliding into her, then pulling out, was exquisite. Overwhelming. That and her body still buzzing with her climax. Her head buzzing with the things she had learned about herself, about the power exchange he’d tried to explain to her, but which she was just coming to really understand.
His skin was impossibly soft under her hands and she gripped his shoulders, her nails biting into the skin. She needed it, somehow. It was too intense; she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help her rasping breath, the arching of her hips into his, wanting to take him deeper.
As the steam rose around them, enveloping them in its warm embrace, they both came. They called each other’s names, their hips clashing together. It was all need and shattering fulfillment. Wet flesh and a pure, startling pleasure. And Kara let it all go—her body, her mind—and sank into it. Into Dante. Let herself, for the first time, become utterly lost.
five
Kara sat behind the desk in her office, sipping from the extra tall, double-shot latte she’d needed that morning. She was tired—exhausted—and a little sore from her weekend with Dante.
Dante . . .
God, the man was insatiable. She had been, too. They’d barely gotten out of bed the entire weekend—or the shower, where they’d had sex at least four times. Dante really did have a thing for the water. She didn’t mind. She’d loved it, in fact. Loved the clean scent of his soap, the steamy air. He’d taught her to really tune in to sensation, and the water was incredible on her skin. Even showering at home this morning after he’d dropped her off had had a newly sensual aura to it.
It had been the most amazing weekend, and when they’d woken up early this morning she hadn’t wanted it to be over. But it was Monday, and time for work. Not that she’d be able to concentrate on a single thing. She was sleep deprived, worn-out, sore in all the best places. And thinking of Dante.
He hadn’t been ready for her to leave, either. That had been clear enough when he’d woken her at five thirty to have sex. Slipping into her while they were both groggy, half-asleep, his hips pumping until they’d both come, gasping their pleasure into the still morning air.
No matter how many times they’d done it over the weekend, he was still hard for her. And there was something she loved about that predawn sex, when they were both still half-asleep. He was irresistible, with his mussed hair, the dark, scratchy stubble on his chin. It made him seem more male. More primal. There was something almost surreal about it. Almost romantic.
Don’t go there .
She sipped her coffee, letting the heat relax her a little. She wasn’t a romantic kind of girl. The last of that had been killed off with Jake. No matter how hot the sex was with Dante, she would remember that it was just that: sex.
The hottest, most intense sex she’d ever had.
Still, nothing more than sex.
She was fine with that. Just an intense chemical connection. No strings. They’d known each other for so long that it was comfortable, too, even if they hadn’t kept in touch over the years. He was familiar enough that it didn’t feel as if she were sleeping with a complete stranger. Friendly but casual, nothing more. But she was glad Dante had said he’d call her today, that they’d see each other again.
She sank back in her chair, taking another slug of her coffee, and stared out the window, which overlooked downtown Seattle. It was raining a little. She didn’t mind it. It gave her a sense of being cocooned,
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