Read Online The SEAL's Rebel Librarian by Anne Calhoun - Free Book Online Page B

focus was on the way his hip bones jutted against her inner thighs, the brush of coarse hair against her thighs and bottom, the sharp, electric pulses in her sex as her body adjusted to his. Her hands looked like they belonged to someone else, long slender fingers spread over a wall of chest muscle. Experimentally she flexed her fingers, watched white divots appear in his skin.
    â€œFuck. You keep looking at me like that and I’m done.”
    â€œClose your eyes,” she said.
    â€œNo fucking way.”
    â€œWhat about this?” she whispered, and sat back to shrug the coat from her shoulders to pool at her elbows.
    At that his eyes slammed shut, and his hands tightened on her hips to the point of pain. She closed her own eyes and just felt the way his cock pulsed inside her as he fought for control, the murmured curses and what sounded like counting in another language. Eventually some of the tension seeped from his body.
    â€œYou’re a tease.”
    She opened her eyes and smiled down at him. “Hardly.”
    Using his viselike grip on her hips, he urged her into motion. “Slow,” he said. “Take it … fuck … take it easy.”
    At first she did, because it pleased her to absorb each shift and glide, feel her body adjust to his cock, her palms slipping on his shoulders as sweat slicked his skin. Then she lifted up a little higher and dropped back down, forcing a groan from his throat. Her breasts bounced with the movement. She sat up straighter, shifting her hands to the bottom of his ribs and did it again. Sensation pulsed to the edges of her skin and beyond, and then she couldn’t stop. She rode him for all she was worth, her entire awareness narrowed to the tight grip of his hands, his hip bones bruising her inner thighs, and his cock blunt and hot inside her.
    â€œFuck. Erin, I can’t … going to … I’m almost there.”
    â€œYes,” she gasped. “Yes, yes, yes!”
    She was dimly aware of his heels pushing against the sheets as he shoved up, burying himself deep inside her, then aware only of the contractions of her sex around his. Her entire body tingled as her muscles gave way. Heart pounding, air heaving into and out of her lungs, she slumped against him.
    â€œOh my God,” she said.
    â€œSeconded,” he said with equal feeling.
    She laughed and rolled to the side, then shimmied out of his coat, letting it fall across his chest as she stretched and wriggled in the sheets. He chuckled and shoved his coat to the floor. “What are you doing, wild woman?”
    â€œWhat feels good,” she said, and pointed her feet until her toes cracked. “I’m doing what feels good.”
    â€œGo on with your bad self,” he said, and heaved himself out of bed. He came back with a wet washcloth for her, then thoughtfully disappeared while she used it, returning with two glasses of water in one big hand and half a chocolate pie in the other. “I had a look in the fridge,” he said. “I hope that’s okay.”
    â€œIf you’d reappeared with two apples or my fat-free cottage cheese, it would definitely be a problem,” she said, taking the pie plate from him. Two dessert forks sat in the graham cracker crust and whipped cream. Picking one up, she licked it clean then traded it to him for a glass of water. She drank half the water, then dug into the pie.
    â€œSo, Jack Powell, why did you leave the Navy?” she asked, because after fabulous, bone-melting sex resulting in two orgasms, she could say anything.
    In answer, he held out his right hand. She watched it tremble and twitch until he made a fist, then opened his hand again. Still trembling.
    â€œIs that from exertion?”
    He laughed, but the sound wasn’t actually amused. “That was great sex. Really great sex. Unfortunately I’ve been dealing with the tremors for a while.”
    She held out her hand in