could do with him pinning her to the mattress. “Ash, please.”
A gruff sound burst from his throat. Slowly, so slowly she wanted to scream, he pulled out inch by inch. Her body clung to him, gripped him, protested his retreat. He withdrew until he was poised at her entrance again, slick with her juices. The aching emptiness he left in his wake seemed to spread out to include all of her, until she was one big vessel waiting to be filled up by him and him alone. It was the singularly most terrifying thought she’d had in a long while, and she didn’t know why. When he kissed her and nearly drew tears with his tenderness, she did.
It was going to be damn hard letting go of him. How would she not spend the rest of her life wishing she had this every night?
His gaze drew back and found hers. His hips surged. The rhythm he set punished her. So wet now, so easy, she took him all, tossing her head on the pillow as ecstasy devoured her. He knew just how to move, how to twist his hips to hit all her sweet spots, and she bit her lip on cries that would have her neighbors dialing 911, because surely that quiet girl next door was being brutally murdered.
“Madeleine,” he groaned, every iota of pleasure she was feeling evident in his voice. She loved how he had the presence of mind to say her whole name; she could barely remember it. He somehow flared even hotter against her. She was liberally slicked with sweat, when he didn’t seem to have broken one at all, and hers was as much from the heat he was generating above as the heat he was generating within. She didn’t know if she could take much more without combusting.
“So close, I’m so close,” she whispered hotly in his ear, as much to encourage him to keep doing it just like that as to hurry him along to his own completion. She wanted to come with him. It had never been something she cared about before and it was something that had rarely, if ever, happened. But everything about this had been so perfect she couldn’t imagine a better ending than for both of them to fall into bliss together.
She felt the shudders and the tightening of her muscles begin. She couldn’t stave it off. It grew inside her, eclipsing her, frightening her with its power. A few more strokes, a few more brushes against her clit, and she’d be there, she’d be…
The building pressure crested and dissolved into rolling waves of mind-numbing pleasure. That storm she’d been waiting for, that fury, blew over her, and she hung on to him as the only anchor in all this wildness. But even in the tumult, she felt his hips jerk away from the smooth, sure rhythm he’d maintained, heard his rough groan in her ear, and knew that she’d gotten her wish. She wasn’t alone in the storm.
Time passed, she wasn’t sure how much, just that it seemed the night would never end and that was damn fine with her. Ash was the most insatiable lover she’d ever known. When they finally collapsed, exhausted—at least, she was—she’d expected him to announce any moment that he was going to get up and call a cab. She hadn’t expected to lie face-to-face with him like this, talking. Talking about nothing and everything, with his fingers trailing lazy linear patterns on her arm.
Was this supposed to be part of the deal? She’d heard Delia talk about her sexual escapades and never had she mentioned the time spent baring your soul to the guy you likely would never see again. But Ash asked her questions about herself, seeming genuinely interested in her answers, even if he wouldn’t offer up many of his own. She found, finally, that she couldn’t keep quiet about it.
“Why all the interest in me?”
His brows drew together, dark eyes flickering up from where he’d been watching his fingertip trail down her neck. “What’s that?”
“Why me? I know I happened to fall into your arms quite literally tonight, but…what made you pursue a pathetically weepy female with obvious baggage?” Her lips
A gruff sound burst from his throat. Slowly, so slowly she wanted to scream, he pulled out inch by inch. Her body clung to him, gripped him, protested his retreat. He withdrew until he was poised at her entrance again, slick with her juices. The aching emptiness he left in his wake seemed to spread out to include all of her, until she was one big vessel waiting to be filled up by him and him alone. It was the singularly most terrifying thought she’d had in a long while, and she didn’t know why. When he kissed her and nearly drew tears with his tenderness, she did.
It was going to be damn hard letting go of him. How would she not spend the rest of her life wishing she had this every night?
His gaze drew back and found hers. His hips surged. The rhythm he set punished her. So wet now, so easy, she took him all, tossing her head on the pillow as ecstasy devoured her. He knew just how to move, how to twist his hips to hit all her sweet spots, and she bit her lip on cries that would have her neighbors dialing 911, because surely that quiet girl next door was being brutally murdered.
“Madeleine,” he groaned, every iota of pleasure she was feeling evident in his voice. She loved how he had the presence of mind to say her whole name; she could barely remember it. He somehow flared even hotter against her. She was liberally slicked with sweat, when he didn’t seem to have broken one at all, and hers was as much from the heat he was generating above as the heat he was generating within. She didn’t know if she could take much more without combusting.
“So close, I’m so close,” she whispered hotly in his ear, as much to encourage him to keep doing it just like that as to hurry him along to his own completion. She wanted to come with him. It had never been something she cared about before and it was something that had rarely, if ever, happened. But everything about this had been so perfect she couldn’t imagine a better ending than for both of them to fall into bliss together.
She felt the shudders and the tightening of her muscles begin. She couldn’t stave it off. It grew inside her, eclipsing her, frightening her with its power. A few more strokes, a few more brushes against her clit, and she’d be there, she’d be…
The building pressure crested and dissolved into rolling waves of mind-numbing pleasure. That storm she’d been waiting for, that fury, blew over her, and she hung on to him as the only anchor in all this wildness. But even in the tumult, she felt his hips jerk away from the smooth, sure rhythm he’d maintained, heard his rough groan in her ear, and knew that she’d gotten her wish. She wasn’t alone in the storm.
Time passed, she wasn’t sure how much, just that it seemed the night would never end and that was damn fine with her. Ash was the most insatiable lover she’d ever known. When they finally collapsed, exhausted—at least, she was—she’d expected him to announce any moment that he was going to get up and call a cab. She hadn’t expected to lie face-to-face with him like this, talking. Talking about nothing and everything, with his fingers trailing lazy linear patterns on her arm.
Was this supposed to be part of the deal? She’d heard Delia talk about her sexual escapades and never had she mentioned the time spent baring your soul to the guy you likely would never see again. But Ash asked her questions about herself, seeming genuinely interested in her answers, even if he wouldn’t offer up many of his own. She found, finally, that she couldn’t keep quiet about it.
“Why all the interest in me?”
His brows drew together, dark eyes flickering up from where he’d been watching his fingertip trail down her neck. “What’s that?”
“Why me? I know I happened to fall into your arms quite literally tonight, but…what made you pursue a pathetically weepy female with obvious baggage?” Her lips
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