Reaching out, he opened a drawer in the nightstand by the bed. There was a strip of them there, and he tore one off and held it up. Then he tossed the towels to the floor. Feeling shameless, she sprawled out a little, watching him. Needing him.
He stood up, his shirt already gone, his Levi's undone, and stripped himself down to skin and muscle, and oh my, what skin and muscle he had! Quite simply, the long hard lines of limbs, his tight, corrugated belly, his powerful thighs and everything between them took her breath. She couldn't tear her eyes off of him.
He lay down beside her again. Cupping a breast, he kissed the peak, then pulled back and caressed it with his thumb. 'You're so beautiful, Sam.'
'Not like you.' His virile nakedness made it difficult to breathe. She wanted to touch and taste. She wanted everything.
He let out a rough laugh. 'A woman's body has got it all over a man's. There's so much to look at…' He stroked the backs of his fingers over her breasts and watched intently while the sensitive tips puckered tight for him. 'So much to touch.'
She felt the tug of his caress now, of his fingers, his mouth, all the way to her womb. She was melting, dissolving away in pleasure.
He swirled his tongue around a nipple, then lifted his head to watch it contract even more. He did it again and again, before finally sucking her into his mouth.
She couldn't help it; she cried out and thrust against him. And he merely started over with her other breast while his hand slid down her belly His fingers slipped toward her moist curls. Her body responded to the sharp, burning electrical current, her every nerve leaped with anticipation, driving need…
His hand dipped a fraction lower, but not nearly low enough.
'Jack.' She wrapped her fingers around his erection, and got even more excited when he swore roughly. Then his mouth had claimed hers again, hungrily, greedily.
But still he didn't take her, still he held back.
'I'm not hurting,' she promised, panting from his kisses, his touches. 'Don't hold back.'
'I don't intend to.' He set a big hand on her knee, urged her legs even further apart, then lowered himself between her thighs. With his shoulders wedging her legs open, she was fully exposed to him. He ducked his head.
For a moment, she was too shocked at the unexpected move to do more than let out a squeak, and then in the next moment she was a slave to his tongue. The fingers of her good hand slid into his hair, fisted. The sounds that tore from her throat might have shocked her in their neediness if she could think, but she couldn't. She could only react.
And when her climax came, it dazed her, pummeled her. She was gasping for breath, her skin shining with perspiration, hair clinging to her neck and face. A wreck. A total wreck.
And loving it.
His skin was damp, too, and he levered himself up, face tight, eyes on hers, arm quaking faintly where he held himself rigid over her as he slipped on the condom. She watched, unable to tear her eyes off his hands as they glided the sheath down the most impressive erection she'd ever seen. She'd thought the whole event was pretty much over for her after her own orgasm, but then Jack guided himself home and sank into her to the hilt.
It was a tight fit. Eyes closed, face contorted in a mask of immense pleasure, he gripped her hips and rolled his, making them both gasp at the way her wet flesh gripped him.
With his name on her lips, she held on to him, digging her fingers into his biceps, having never before experienced anything as intense, as overwhelmingly earth-shattering in her life.
Jack kept up with the unerring, slow grinding of his hips, forward and back, forward and back, each thrust bringing her to a new height. Giving herself completely over to it, to him, Sam fought to keep her glazed eyes open and on his, but it was an effort.
Tilting up her hips, Jack sank more fully into her, each subsequent slow withdrawal followed by a desperately craved thrust. Whether it was her panting his name, or his own driving need, he gradually increased the tempo, until unbelievably, she could feel herself spiraling again, shuddering with her second orgasm. As she fell, he rasped out her name and followed her over the edge.
Jack came to his senses with great effort. Lifting his weight off of Sam, he was surprised when she murmured a soft
'I'm too heavy.' But he stayed an extra minute anyway, brushing a kiss at her temple, and then, when he managed to hoist up his body again, dropped another gently, just between her lovely breasts.
When he came back from the bathroom, she was exactly where he'd left her, eyes closed, a small smile playing around her lips. That it widened when he approached the bed told him what he wanted to know, what he'd hoped to know.
She still wanted him.
She lifted her arms and, not realizing he'd been standing there holding his breath, he let it out and climbed back on the bed.
Pulling the blankets up over them, he lay on his side facing her and hauled her close. She tipped up her head and sought his mouth. With a groan, he sank into the kiss that was every bit as hot and sweet and deep as what they'd just shared. 'Sam,' he gasped when her hand wandered down his chest, past his belly to wrap around the part of him that was ready for her again. 'You need-'
'This,' she said simply, and pressed against him, fitting there so perfectly that his response was far more than physical.
That shocked him for a moment, the realization at how right this felt, how much he liked having her in his bed.
It shouldn't have made sense. He hadn't wanted a woman in his life, had thought he didn't have room for one, but this all seemed right.
Since that was as terrifying as dragging her out of the fire, he shoved it aside and dived into what she was offering. He kissed her until she was panting softly, writhing against him again, until he didn't know where she ended and he began. The little sounds in the back of her throat were an unbearable turn-on; so was the way she tore free and demanded, 'Another condom,' then climbed over him to get it out of the drawer herself.
She tried to open the packet, but couldn't seem to manage with her bandaged hand, so he took it from her. As he ripped the package, she shot him a smile that sent his thoughts reeling. God, he wanted to please her, make her forget, make her his.
But then with her good hand, she pushed him onto his back on the bed.
'Sam-'
'I'll be careful,' she promised, then straddled his hips, looking down at him with darkly slumberous eyes. 'Very careful.'
He groaned, his hands coming up to her hips, then skimming to her breasts, which he plumped up, loving the way her nipples reacted to his touch as she slowly sank down on him.
She bent low, kissing him, her hair brushing his face, his chest, her body soft and wet for him. Bowled over, he could only hold on. 'My God, Sam…'
'I know. It's beautiful. You're beautiful,' she said, and then she began to move, slowly, entwining the fingers of her good hand in his, up by his head.
Helplessly, he rocked his hips, and she gasped at the depth he reached inside her.
There was no holding back-he was hers.
Just as, for this moment at least, she was his. Lust might have powered this act, but lust couldn't sustain it alone. His growing, unnamed feelings for her did that.
Flushed, skin damp and glowing, she tossed her head back in pure abandonment.
Pleasured as he'd never been before, he pushed up high inside her. Stroke for stroke his hips met hers, the friction and tension building to unbearable heights, and then she cried out again, lost. And he was lost, too, just from watching her. Hell, he'd been lost in her since that very first night, so much so that he couldn't have held back if he tried. So he didn't, and pulling her down on him, held her tight as he followed her into that oblivion she'd