She turned the condom over in her fingers, fumbling in the dark.
And maybe not.
He took the condom from her and sheathed himself.
She barely waited until he was covered before she pushed his shoulders to the mattress, raised her hips, and . . .
His mind blanked as she sank down on him. Tight. Perfect.
He was buried to the hilt, gripped by her wet heat. He gritted his teeth and thrust up, seating himself even more gritted his teeth and thrust up, seating himself even more deeply inside her.
She didn’t move.
She held herself very stil above him, a stunned expression in her wide, darkened eyes.
His stomach muscles tightened. He didn’t breathe.
Careful y, with his thumb, he pushed a strand of dark hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Okay?”
F o r g o t t e n s e a 159
Slowly, very slowly, her gaze focused on his. Her smile, when it came, blinded him with its bril iance. “Very okay.”
She leaned forward to kiss him, her breasts brushing his chest, her kiss warm on his mouth.
The movement pul ed their bodies apart. Instinctively, he arched, seeking a deeper connection. She caught her breath and pulsed around him, beginning to rock, finding her rhythm. He caught her hips to help her, each glide, each push, each pant, bringing them closer.
Sensation wracked him as their sweat-slicked bodies moved together. She held him tightly deep inside, gripping his shoulders, her short fingers digging in. Her lips parted, her eyes narrowed in fierce concentration.
“I can’t,” she choked out, straining against him.
“You wil .” He palmed her buttocks, feeling her muscles clench and squeeze inside and out, dragging him with her to the edge. “Come on, baby. Fly.”
He reached for her, for the place where they were joined, and pushed her over.
Impaled on his cock, imprisoned by his arms, she cried out his name and flew.
His world spun dizzily out of control. Holding her close, he fel .
13
Th e g r ay l ig h t o f daw n e d g e d t h e s h a bb y motel curtains. Iestyn turned his head on the pil ow. Lara slept heavily beside him, her dark hair a tangle, her face pure and soft in the cold, uncompromising light.
He could be gone before she woke. To Maine. Now that he had a destination—he wouldn’t go so far as to cal it a plan
—he didn’t need to drag her with him. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d slipped early from a woman’s bed to avoid an argument in the morning.
The scent of sex lingered on the sheets, but no trace of cigarettes or booze or stale perfume. Physical y, he felt better than he had in days, his body loose and relaxed, his headache a manageable throb, the burn around his neck a mere distraction. He stretched, careful not to disturb the sleeping woman at his side. It would be a shame to waste his current wel -being on regrets or recriminations.
And yet . . .
F o r g o t t e n s e a 161
Desire stirred. Again. She was so damn beautiful.
Those long, dark lashes. That moist, kiss-swol en mouth.
Her fingers curled protectively into her palm as if she held a kiss or a secret.
She was ful of secrets. And surprises.
Who’d have thought his angel would be so hot in bed?
Just thinking about the way she’d gone down on him last night was enough to flood his veins with liquid fire. Yet she was so guarded, so modest, she hadn’t removed her oversized T-shirt, even when they’d made love a second time.
Of course, they’d both been half asleep. He had roused to find her stil sprawled over him, soft, warm, delicious.
He’d covered himself with another condom from the stash under her pil ow, giving silent thanks for her tendency to plan ahead. With a contented sigh, she’d moved over him, her lashes fluttering open as he’d slipped into her welcoming heat.
Sex so tender, so ardent, belonged in a dream.
Rueful y, he regarded his hard-on, jutting against the sheet.
He could be out of here before she woke. The problem was, he didn’t want to go.
After last night, he could hardly slap some money on the dresser and take off. Yet he couldn’t leave her without funds. Without a car. Without a word.
Without a kiss.
