Hold Me (Fool's Gold #16)(82)
She was helpless, she thought, sinking into the sensation of him circling and circling, the pace not changing, yet the tension inside her building.
She wanted to whimper. She wanted to beg. Every part of her only cared about that small core. About what he was doing to her body.
Her breathing increased as he touched her over and over. He moved a little faster. She strained toward something she couldn’t see, couldn’t touch, couldn’t—
She exploded, flew apart into a zillion pieces, into the very essence of what she had always been. She might have gasped or screamed or been totally silent. She had no way of knowing. She could only be lost in the powerful waves of pleasure reducing her to base metal before allowing her to reassemble into a metamorphosed version of herself.
When she could think again, when she could breathe and speak, she opened her eyes and found Kipling watching her. One corner of his mouth turned up.
“That would be an orgasm.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE HOUSE WAS PRETTY. Two stories with a partially finished basement. Four bedrooms upstairs, lots of windows to let in light and a big backyard. Destiny knew she should be checking out storage space and the size of the kitchen. Did the layout work for her, and would the place need paint? There were considerations when one purchased a home for the first time. But honest to God, she simply couldn’t think straight. Not with her body still quivering and tingling with aftershocks.
Someone should have been a lot clearer about the whole sex thing.
Kipling walked back into the kitchen and smiled at her. “The yard is nice. Big enough for a swing set and a dog to run around. There’s a big tree with good-size branches. What do you think about a tree house?”
He had such a nice mouth, she thought, watching him as he talked. And the way he moved. Every now and then there was the slightest hesitation. From his accident. He had scars, too. On his legs and hips. One circled halfway around to his back.
She knew that now. She knew other things, too. Like the scent of his skin and how his gaze sharpened when he entered her. She knew that he liked it when she made noise when she came. She knew the sound of his voice as he urged her on.
He walked over and pulled her against him. “Tired?” he asked.
“A little.”
Neither of them had slept. They’d spent the night making love. After her first climax, she’d been stunned. Blown away. Pick your description, she thought, still amazed by what had happened. Then he’d slipped inside her, and she’d climaxed again.
They’d gone to dinner, then returned to their room to make love over and over again. She hurt everywhere, but the ache was worth it. Every step reminded her of what they’d done. Of how he had pleased her.
He stroked her hair then lowered his mouth to hers. She leaned into him, parting her lips immediately. As his tongue tangled with hers, she was already unbuttoning the front of her shirt. When it was open, she unhooked her bra then grabbed his hands and put them on her breasts.
His kiss turned greedy, then he pulled away. “Hold that thought. I want to check the front door.”
Because they were alone in the empty house. The local real-estate agent had simply handed them keys to the handful of houses that were vacant and for sale. Apparently, word that they were looking for something they could close on quickly had spread.
Kipling hurried out of the kitchen. Destiny put the time to good use. She unfastened her jeans and toed out of her shoes. By the time he returned, she was naked.
Kipling took one look at her then shook his head. “You’re going to kill us both.”
She grinned. “I doubt that.”
He crossed to her and grabbed her by the waist, then settled her on the built-in desk. She reached for the fly of his jeans and freed him.
He was already hard. She parted her thighs, and he pushed home. She wrapped her legs around his hips and drew him in deep.
It only took them a thrust or two to find the right rhythm. Even as he returned his mouth to hers, he was also cupping her breasts. She ran her hands over his chest and back, then shifted closer, pulling him in deeper.
He filled her completely. Nerve endings were already screaming for the hot friction. At minute one, she was breathing hard. At minute two, she was nearing her climax. At minute three she opened her eyes to find him watching her.
In and out. He moved hard and fast, pushing her closer and closer.
“Yes,” he breathed, his gaze locked with hers.
He could see her getting closer. They’d both figured that out last night. As she strained toward her release, he went deeper. It was just enough.
She felt the first telltale internal shudders. Her orgasm swept over her, claiming her. She shook and groaned, all the while looking into his eyes. Letting him see it all.
He didn’t break rhythm, not even once. She felt him shaking as he held back until she was done. When she’d quieted, he squeezed her butt and pushed in one more time. She watched his face tighten as he climaxed inside her.
They stayed like that—connected and united—until their breathing slowed. They kissed each other slowly, lazily, letting their bodies return to a more resting state. He withdrew and then helped her dress.
After fastening her bra, he reached around and cupped her breasts. Wanting shot through her. She could never get enough of him, she thought, not sure if that was good news or bad news. Something about his body and her body created an irresistible dynamic.