moment in life when she could do that, follow every urge. When she didn’t have to worry about Sophie. Or Destiny. Or the future. Or anything. And the honest truth was, who knew how long it might be before she was with a man again?
So she didn’t stop herself . . . from lifting, backing off his body. From easing herself down onto the floor—on her knees, between his. She still held his erection in her hand and now she studied it again, thinking it was strong and sturdy, just like Adam himself. And then she leaned inward, closer, closer, ready to follow that impulse—but unable to resist looking up at him first. “Am I shocking you?”
“Yes,” he said, appearing a little breathless.
“Is it okay?”
“God, yes.”
As best she could tell, they were the only words he could eke out, and they seemed to have come through slightly clenched teeth. He clearly hadn’t expected this, and God knew neither had she. But letting out the breath she’d been holding the last few seconds, she then lowered her lips over him, feeling the full size of him there, listening to his hot sigh and relishing it. Then she began to move her mouth up and down, pleasuring him, which in turn meant pleasuring herself, and though she still wasn’t sure what had driven her to do this particular thing at this particularly unexpected time . . . maybe she just wanted to live again, fully, without reserve. Or maybe she wanted to show Adam that she could be a generous lover, too. All she knew was that it made sense to her, and that her body wanted it.
She moved on him that way for a long while, loving the feel of his hands in her hair, his moans and murmurs—he was whispering, “God, yeah, yeah”—until finally she backed away, took the liberty of finding another condom in the wallet that lay open near his rumpled blue jeans, and knelt back between his legs to roll it on.
By which point he’d grown a little more frantic, hurried, pulling her back to where he’d wanted her in the first place, on top of him in the chair. And then he was situating her hips, pushing her down onto him, and making her cry out at the intense delight of being so forcefully filled.
She met his gaze, saw her passion reflected in his eyes, then twined her arms around his neck and kissed him for all she was worth as her body took over once more, grinding atop his, rocking and undulating in a primal dance that rose quickly to its pinnacle. They both came within a few hot, scintillating minutes, and once all the moaning and sobbing was done they rested there, bodies entangled, her head on his shoulder.
“That was amazing,” he whispered.
“Uh-huh,” she agreed. Now she was the one who’d lost the power of speech.
“Wanna get in bed, sugar plum?” he asked, making her giggle at the silly nickname, and a minute later they lay naked beneath the covers of the bottom bunk, that “top or bottom” question from earlier having taken on a whole new meaning now. They slept snuggled together, warm beneath the blankets, having long since forgotten the snowstorm that raged outside.
S ue Ann had no idea how late it was when she awoke to a stirring beside her, then opened her eyes to see a very firm male butt crossing the dark, shadowy room to the fireplace. She bit her lip, enjoying the view as he stoked the fire and stacked a few more logs on the grate, then waited patiently for him to rejoin her in the narrow bed that made cuddling almost a necessity.
As they settled in each other’s arms, it hit her that she felt closer to Adam than she ever had before. Which was only logical, of course. But it made her wonder about earlier—and it also made her feel . . . more entitled to ask now. “Tell me something,” she began. “What really had you so upset before? I mean, I understand about the boys being gone, how that could ruin your holidays, but . . . is that truly all there was to it?”
He drew back slightly in her embrace, clearly surprised by the question.
So she didn’t stop herself . . . from lifting, backing off his body. From easing herself down onto the floor—on her knees, between his. She still held his erection in her hand and now she studied it again, thinking it was strong and sturdy, just like Adam himself. And then she leaned inward, closer, closer, ready to follow that impulse—but unable to resist looking up at him first. “Am I shocking you?”
“Yes,” he said, appearing a little breathless.
“Is it okay?”
“God, yes.”
As best she could tell, they were the only words he could eke out, and they seemed to have come through slightly clenched teeth. He clearly hadn’t expected this, and God knew neither had she. But letting out the breath she’d been holding the last few seconds, she then lowered her lips over him, feeling the full size of him there, listening to his hot sigh and relishing it. Then she began to move her mouth up and down, pleasuring him, which in turn meant pleasuring herself, and though she still wasn’t sure what had driven her to do this particular thing at this particularly unexpected time . . . maybe she just wanted to live again, fully, without reserve. Or maybe she wanted to show Adam that she could be a generous lover, too. All she knew was that it made sense to her, and that her body wanted it.
She moved on him that way for a long while, loving the feel of his hands in her hair, his moans and murmurs—he was whispering, “God, yeah, yeah”—until finally she backed away, took the liberty of finding another condom in the wallet that lay open near his rumpled blue jeans, and knelt back between his legs to roll it on.
By which point he’d grown a little more frantic, hurried, pulling her back to where he’d wanted her in the first place, on top of him in the chair. And then he was situating her hips, pushing her down onto him, and making her cry out at the intense delight of being so forcefully filled.
She met his gaze, saw her passion reflected in his eyes, then twined her arms around his neck and kissed him for all she was worth as her body took over once more, grinding atop his, rocking and undulating in a primal dance that rose quickly to its pinnacle. They both came within a few hot, scintillating minutes, and once all the moaning and sobbing was done they rested there, bodies entangled, her head on his shoulder.
“That was amazing,” he whispered.
“Uh-huh,” she agreed. Now she was the one who’d lost the power of speech.
“Wanna get in bed, sugar plum?” he asked, making her giggle at the silly nickname, and a minute later they lay naked beneath the covers of the bottom bunk, that “top or bottom” question from earlier having taken on a whole new meaning now. They slept snuggled together, warm beneath the blankets, having long since forgotten the snowstorm that raged outside.
S ue Ann had no idea how late it was when she awoke to a stirring beside her, then opened her eyes to see a very firm male butt crossing the dark, shadowy room to the fireplace. She bit her lip, enjoying the view as he stoked the fire and stacked a few more logs on the grate, then waited patiently for him to rejoin her in the narrow bed that made cuddling almost a necessity.
As they settled in each other’s arms, it hit her that she felt closer to Adam than she ever had before. Which was only logical, of course. But it made her wonder about earlier—and it also made her feel . . . more entitled to ask now. “Tell me something,” she began. “What really had you so upset before? I mean, I understand about the boys being gone, how that could ruin your holidays, but . . . is that truly all there was to it?”
He drew back slightly in her embrace, clearly surprised by the question.
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