All I Want(55)

“Not done with you yet,” he said, and made her tremble in anticipation.

He pinned her hips with his. She reached for him but he eluded her, coming up with a condom to protect them both. He took his sweet-ass time about getting it on, too, pushing against her so that she could feel every solid inch of what waited for her.

Finally he lifted her just enough that he could slide into her, inch by slow aching inch. Closing her eyes, she reveled in the sensation of him filling her. When he was as deep as he could go, he dipped his head, his hair falling over his forehead as he watched himself move inside her.

He rode her slowly, letting it all build to an incredible height again. He had her desperate in moments and she ground her hips against his for more, harder, faster. When she whispered her plea, he groaned her name and gripped her hips, thrusting deep, giving her everything she wanted, and unbelievably she peaked again.

This time he came with her, burying his face in the crook of her neck and shuddering hard in her arms. It was exquisite and absolutely the most erotic experience of her life.

When they both fell back against the couch together, Parker shifted so she didn’t bear all his weight, turning them so that they lay on their sides facing each other.

Stroking a stray strand of hair from her face, he brushed a kiss over her damp temple. Her jaw. Her lips. He lingered there, tasting her until he lifted his head and met her gaze.

He smiled.

“What?” she asked, her voice all raspy, reminding her that not only had she lost track of how many times she’d come for him, she hadn’t exactly been quiet about it, either.

“Was going to ask if you were okay,” he said with a low laugh. “But your dazed expression says it all.”

“Hey.” She poked him in the chest. “You look pretty sated yourself.”

“Mm-hmmm.” And then his arms tightened possessively on her, the message being you’re not going anywhere . . .

Which was nice since she didn’t want to. She wriggled to settle in comfortably and was surprised to feel him stir against her, going hard. “Already?” she asked in disbelief.

“It would have been sooner but I don’t have another condom.”

She trailed her fingers over his chest. “I’m on the pill,” she said softly. “I’m safe . . . if you are.”

Tipping her chin up, he met her gaze. “I am.”

She smiled. “Okay then.”

“Okay then,” he repeated, matching her smile, his own wicked enough to make her quiver. “I want you to do that again,” he said.

“What?”

“Call out my name.”

She looked at him. His eyes were hot, his body even hotter still.

He’d given her everything she’d asked of him and she intended to do the same. So she gave him a smile. “Make me.”

He proceeded to do just that.

Twice.





Twenty




When the knock came at the front door much later, Parker was sprawled spread-eagle on the living room floor staring up at the ceiling trying to get his breath back.

Holy.

Shit.

He’d never lived his life like a monk, but he couldn’t remember ever feeling like this after time spent with a woman, like maybe he’d been both hit by a Mack truck and also taken to heaven and back.

Barely managing to turn his head, he found Zoe. She was face down and unmoving.

And deliciously naked.

Unable to stop himself, he reached out and palmed her sweet ass, giving it a squeeze.

Nothing.

He gave it a light smack. It jiggled enticingly and she squeaked but still didn’t budge.

Laughing, he tugged her to him. Not easy when she was completely boneless and unmoving. “You breathing?” he asked.

Her eyes stayed closed but her mouth curved. “Don’t know. Can’t feel any of my parts.”

Huffing out a laugh, he stroked her damp hair from her face and leaned down to kiss her just as the doorbell rang.

This accomplished what Parker hadn’t managed. Leaping to life, Zoe jumped up and whipped around in circles looking for her clothes.

Damn, the view was fine. Enjoying it, he put his hands behind his head and remained on the floor as Zoe ran around looking for her clothes. She found her teeny-tiny panties—which, for the record, he loved—and hopped into them, nearly falling over, eliciting a bunch of creative swearing from Zoe.

He arched a brow, impressed. “You could just not answer the door, you know.”

She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “I can’t find my bra!”

“You weren’t wearing one.”

“Oh yeah.” Clearly also unable to find her dress—which he happened to know was on the kitchen floor—she grabbed his sweats and yanked them up. And then grabbed one of his shirts and pulled it on over her head.

She looked so sexy-adorable he gave her a finger crook. “C’mere.”

“Oh no,” she said. “I have rug burns on my knees because of that very smile—”

The doorbell rang again.

“Ohmigod,” she whispered, waving her hands at him. “Get up, get up! Put some clothes on!”

He laughed at her but got to his feet. “Babe, you’re wearing my clothes.”

She looked down at herself, made a sound of frustration, and gave him a shove toward the stairs. “What if it’s one of my nosy-ass siblings?” she hissed. “They have a key!”