One Wish (Thunder Point #7)(23)

They kissed and whispered their way through a glass of wine, then Troy took hers out of her hand and put it on the coffee table. He stood and pulled her to her feet and led her toward the bedroom, which was only about ten feet away. When they stood beside the bed, he took her gently into his arms and kissed her some more, drawing deep sighs from her. Then she turned in his arms and presented her back, pulling her hair away, and he saw the zipper for her dress.

He drew it down slowly, taking a taste of her neck in the process. He pushed the dress off her shoulders and she let it fall, leaving her in a silky black slip. She stepped out of the dress and bent to pick it up, but he took it from her and turned to drape it across the only chair in the room. He got rid of his belt and shirt and when he turned back to her, she had removed her hose and kicked them aside. She was a determined little thing; he wasn’t going to find going slowly an easy thing.

When she sat on the bed he withdrew a couple of condoms from his pocket.

“Do you have to put them out now?” she asked.

“Believe me, I do,” he said. He let the pants drop, kicked them off and they joined the clothes on the chair. He sat beside her, embraced her, pulled her down beside him and rolled a little, adjusting till their bodies were flush and tight. “There,” he said, feeling every curve of her against him. “Perfect.”

And he was ready.

“I can feel your heart,” he said. He ran his hands down her back and over her butt. She was so firm and solid. “The flower business must be good exercise,” he said, chuckling softly.

Her hands were on his chest, caressing every inch of him, kissing his chest, his neck, his mouth and all the time wiggling up against him. He still wore his boxers, but they were doing nothing to keep his secrets. He pushed himself between her legs without really meaning to—he was on automatic pilot.

“Let’s get rid of this,” he said, pulling a strap of the slip down over her shoulder.

She sat up and drew the silky garment over her head and tossed it aside, leaving her in nothing but a tiny thong. And that, he thought, wouldn’t get in his way for a second. But to level the playing field and give her a chance to get used to him, he shed his boxers. There they were. In all their basic glory. He pulled her hand, drawing it to him. She didn’t hesitate; she put both hands on him and hummed softly as she figured him out. “Easy does it,” he said.

There were so many things he wanted to do to her, but not the first time. He’d like to lick her whole body, make her come before she even knew what hit her. He’d like to lift her onto his lap and watch her ride; he’d like to take her against the shower wall. Not this time, he told himself. He had promised it would be slow and safe and he never broke a promise. He slid his hand under her thong. “Open for me, honey,” he said, giving her thighs a nudge. He slid one finger into her silkiness. Then two fingers. Wow, she wasn’t going to need much warming up. He massaged her for a few seconds and she was squirming against his hand, almost whimpering. He slid a finger inside.

“You okay?” he asked in a whisper.

“Okay,” she whispered back.

“This has to go,” he said, pulling her thong down. She kicked it away as he turned to the bedside table and retrieved a condom, quickly rolling it on. If he didn’t suit up, she was going to climb all over him. She was straining toward him, making beautiful little noises. He turned her on her back, spread her legs with a knee and placed himself in the zone. Leaning down to her lips once more, he whispered against them. “Ready to see how this works?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered back, her eyes closed.

“Look at me, Gracie.” She opened her eyes. “I want you to go limp...relax everything. It’s not going to hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He pressed himself against her. “Nice and easy,” he said. “It’s okay. It’s good.” And he pressed into her very, very slowly. He kissed her deeply as he went all the way. She moaned. “Okay?” he asked.

“Mmm,” she murmured. “Okay.”

But damned if he was! This was the best place he’d been in a very long time. And she hugged him like a velvet vise. A quivering, soft, slick vise. He was dying. He started to move, slowly, looking for that sweet spot, pressing deeply into her, listening to the sounds she made, trying to judge them for the right spot, the right friction, the perfect stimulation for her. As for himself, if he unclenched his molars for one second, he was gone.

“Oh.” She sighed. “Oh! Oh! Oh!”

“Oh, yeah,” he said.

“Please,” she said, gripping his shoulders. “More. Please!”

He moved a little harder, hanging on for dear life. He took her mouth again, kissing her deeply as he moved inside. “You’re beautiful, baby,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”

“I think maybe you’re perfect,” she said.

“Only with you,” he said. “With you I feel perfect.” And he followed that with a kiss. And a thrust.

She came apart. She clenched him inside her body, drawing on him, leaving him to wonder if it was his expert moves or the words. Then thinking stopped. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back and her pelvis forward, upward, bit her lip and if he could see, he’d bet she curled her toes. So he did what came naturally, thrusting a couple more times and having the best orgasm of his life, right then, right there, with her. His eyes teared; his brain clouded over and he wondered if he lost consciousness for a second. He pulsed until there was nothing left in him. Even his brain was empty; her body was still holding him for so long he was amazed. She rode through it with him, the whole way.