Songbird(21)

With a tortured groan, he surged forward, ripping himself from her grasp. She pulled her hand away and reached for his arm, his shoulder, anything to steady herself with.

His sac rubbed erotically against her behind as he strained to get deeper within her. Her legs doubled back, trapped between their bodies, kept her wide open to whatever he wanted to do.

A shift on the bed had her turning her head. Greer. She’d nearly forgotten about him, but he lay there next to her, his gaze locked on her. Their eyes met and he caressed her cheek, brushing back her hair as Taggert withdrew and stroked forward again.

There was an unspoken promise in his eyes. He would have her next.

She shuddered and twisted, restless as pleasure rose again from deep inside. No longer locked behind a wall of grief and pain, she soared. She’d forgotten what it felt like to feel the wind in her face.

She reached for Greer’s hand, and she gripped the back of Taggert’s neck with her other hand. She rose to meet each thrust, gasping as he grasped her bu**ocks, lifting so he could achieve greater depth.

He was hard where she was soft, and they blended seamlessly together. Back and forth, he plunged, his body cupped protectively over hers.

“Don’t stop,” she urged. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t baby. I won’t.”

Taggert leaned down, letting her legs fall to the sides. His chest lowered until her br**sts were flattened against it. His tongue tangled wildly with hers.

His hips rose and fell, and she strained upward, reaching, wanting release again. It was different this time, not as lazy as before. It was sharper, faster, more impatient, and before she could open her mouth to beg—for what she wasn’t even sure—the room blurred and she fell long and hard.

Taggert emitted a hoarse shout and then an agonized groan. He tightened over her, and he thrust frantically until finally he went still, his c**k still wedged deep inside her.

His hips twitched spasmodically, and he collapsed onto her, his forehead resting against hers. After a long moment, his harsh breathing slowed and he gently kissed each eyelid.

“I love you,” he murmured.

Her heart clenched, and she closed her eyes, absorbing the moment. His love. The sated, sluggish feeling that crawled through her veins.

She felt Greer’s fingers trail over her arm in a lazy, reassuring manner, and her senses reeled at the idea that he was there, waiting.

Taggert kissed her again and then carefully rolled away. He rose from the bed and went to the bathroom, returning a moment later with a towel cupped over his groin. He carefully wiped and then gently cleaned the sticky se**n from the insides of her thighs.

When he was done, he tossed the towel away and lay on her other side. She was flat on her back, her gaze too unfocused to do more than trace random patterns on the ceiling.

Greer’s hand rested on her belly, rubbed gentle circles before moving to palm first one breast and then the other. Instead of rising as she expected, he simply reached for her, pulling her up and over him until she blanketed his body.

She loved the feel of him underneath her. Hard, big, so strong. His hands stroked her body until she swore she purred like a sated cat. She arched into his caresses then dropped her head to kiss him.

“So sweet,” he murmured. “You taste just like I dreamed you’d taste.”

She smiled and nipped at his bottom lip, sucking it between her teeth. Then she all but crawled up his body so she could position her br**sts at his mouth. She wanted his lips around her ni**les, wanted to feel the erotic pull of his mouth.

“Can you take me?” he asked hoarsely. “I don’t want to hurt you, Emmy. If you’re tired or sore I’ll wait.”

Ignoring his question, she shimmied back down his body until his c**k nudged impatiently between her legs.

“The question is, can you take me?”

His eyes gleamed and sparked as he stared up at her. “Do you worst, love.”

With a smile, she reached down and tucked his c**k to her opening, rising up as she did. He was as big and hard as Taggert, but God he looked longer. She glanced nervously at him then back again.

His hand rested on her waist but he waited, not pushing.

“I won’t hurt you, Emmy,” he said softly. “Take as much of me or as little of me as you want. It’s all up to you.”

She eased down, feeling him stretch her as she lowered herself onto him. He reached to hold her, to offer support and she grasped his arms for leverage.

Her knees dug into his sides, and she closed her eyes before rising to give her better position to take all of him. The sensation of him filling her was delicious. So hard, big and thick.

Already she panted, her body coiling into a tight ball of intense sexual heat. She came down forcefully, gasping as she stretched more when he pushed deeper.

“Take it easy, baby,” Greer chided as he lifted her hips to ease the burn.

“No,” she whimpered. She wanted it all. All of him. All he had to give.

She released his arms and placed her palms flat on his chest, rose over him and slammed down, taking him into her body in one heated rush.

His fingers curled into her hips at the same time a breathless curse slipped past his lips.

“Ride me, Emmy. Make me yours.”

Her fingers curled into the hair on his chest. She rose and fell, gripping him with her knees. She rotated, bucked and took him hard.