Kiss Me (Fool's Gold #17)(77)

He handed her the condom, then clicked off the light. “Where was I?” he asked.

“You can pretty much be anywhere you want to be,” she told him.

“Good. Then I want to be here.”

He pulled off her panties in one smooth move. Then there was nothing. She tensed in anticipation. A whisper of breath was her only warning. One second he was beside her, the next, he kissed the inside of her ankle. She jumped in surprise.

“What are you doing?” she asked, even as she parted her thighs.

“You’re a smart woman. You figure it out.”

He kissed his way up to her knee, then moved between her legs and nibbled higher. Up and up and up until he pressed an openmouthed kiss just at that hollow by her hip.

“That’s not right,” he teased, even as he licked her tummy. “I was looking for something else.”

Anticipation had reached such a fevered pitch that Phoebe wasn’t sure she could talk—even to give directions. She could only send loud telepathic messages instructing Zane on the right place to press that tongue of his. Fortunately, the man was pretty darned good at mind reading.

He slipped from her tummy to the promised land in three seconds flat. This time, she didn’t have warning, but that was okay. She didn’t mind the surprise of his gentle caress pleasuring the most intimate parts of her.

She parted her legs even more and raised her hips in a silent invitation. He moved slowly, discovering, tasting, whispering how good this all was for him.

She wanted to tell him he should try it from her perspective, but she couldn’t form words. She couldn’t even think. All she could do was feel the liquid heat spiraling through her. Feel the tensing of her muscles as he explored all of her before settling on that one spot designed to send her into paradise. Feel the heavenly pressure of the finger he slipped inside her.

He moved in tandem, slow, then a little faster. She rocked her head back and forth, her breathing increasing. Her eyes opened, but in the darkness there was nothing to see.

Her climax approached with a speed that left her breathless. She couldn’t be ready so soon, but she couldn’t—didn’t want—to make him stop.

“Zane,” she whispered. “I can’t—”

He didn’t respond. Probably a good thing, she thought with her last bit of consciousness, right before she lost control and gave herself over to her release.

Every cell in her body became caught up in the abandon that was her orgasm. Pleasure encompassed her. There was so much inside her, it went on and on, Zane drawing it out, moving slower, more gently, silently urging her to surrender all she had to him.

At last, when she could breathe and think and move, she sighed.

“That was amazing,” she told him.

He kissed the top of her thigh. “For me, too.”

She heard him sit up and prepared to pass over the condom. But before she could, she felt his finger enter her again. Just the finger.

It shouldn’t have been that exciting, but there was something about the way he touched her. She’d just had more than her fill of orgasms, but she couldn’t help clamping around him, drawing him in deeper.

“Good?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah. Don’t stop.”

Without thinking, she reached down and grabbed his wrist. Holding his hand still, she thrust her hips forward and back, finding the right pace until the heavy tension returned, and she felt the telltale contractions begin again.

He swore softly. “Can you do that while I’m inside of you?”

“Absolutely.”

She pulled his hand free and pressed the condom into his palm. “Can you put this on in the dark?”

He chuckled. “With you as motivation, I could probably put it on after I was dead.”

Then he was pressing against her.

She reached between them and guided him inside of her. As he entered her, she contracted around him. He filled her slowly, stretching her, delighting her. Each thrust was enough to send her flying.

Zane shifted so he could hold on to her hips. “I can feel you coming,” he murmured. “You’re killing me. I can’t hold on much longer.”

“Go for it,” she told him.

He took her at her word. Moving faster and faster, he pulled out of her, then slipped back inside. She lost herself in the movement, in what she was feeling. The pleasure was greater than any she’d ever experienced. Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe it was something about being outdoors or the placement of the moon. Whatever. At this point, she didn’t much care.

Instead, as she felt Zane tensing for his own release, she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him close. One last shudder rippled through her. She gave herself up to the feel of him, to the sudden weight as he wrapped his arms around her and groaned his surrender.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

PHOEBE HAD ALWAYS dreaded the awkward moments of “after.” After making love. Not that she had a lot of experience with that sort of thing. She’d had lovers before, just not tons. And in her world, the after part was fraught with peril.

Usually there was the whole cuddle versus not cuddle. Plus the conversation. Often the conversation went along the lines of “was it good for you?” Because it wasn’t always. Sometimes it wasn’t at all. Generally she walked around the truth, not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings.