He moved from one nipple to the other, taking his time, then slid one hand between her legs, pressing against her through the jumpsuit. The last vestige of reason and control left her, and she rode his hand, shamelessly undulating against it, conscious only of her need. It seemed only seconds had passed when the tingling pulsation started in her center and spread through her, growing in intensity till it peaked, and she nearly screamed in her release.
She knew her legs would not support her, and she held on to his strong shoulders like a drowning woman to a life raft. He slipped her jumpsuit and teddy over her hips. They fell to the floor, and she kicked them to the side. The edge of the Formica countertop was cool against her bottom, and she shivered, goose bumps breaking out on her skin.
His mouth claimed hers again, his tongue probing and stroking, while his hands lovingly caressed her bare skin, one hand finally returning to her center, a finger slipping into her moistness, driving her mad. She fumbled with his zipper. It stretched so tightly over his bulging hardness that at first she was unable to force the pull down. She persisted and slid his jeans down, then his underwear, freeing him. She felt his own dampness as she took him in her hand, pleased to find he was a Goldilocks man—not too small, not too big, but just right.
He groaned, stepped out of his loafers, and kicked his jeans and underwear away as they dropped to the floor. She started to pull him back to her, but he held up a hand.
“Wait.”
It came out breathless, as if it was an effort to do what he was telling her to do. He picked his jeans up, pulled a foil packet from the rear pocket, and dropped the jeans back on the floor. It took him only seconds to sheath himself. Clasping her waist with both hands, he lifted her easily onto the edge of the counter, his lips never leaving hers. Still holding him she wrapped her legs around his waist, and pulled him to her, guiding him into her center.
He slid into her, filling her, and she was sure she had never in her life felt such pleasure. As he began to move within her, she pulled her mouth from his and looked into his blue eyes, seeing her own pleasure mirrored in his. He stroked her hair away from her face as he continued to move slowly and deeply within her.
“I wanted this since I laid eyes on you,” he whispered, and she nodded, unable to speak.
He began to move faster inside her, his own need undermining his control. Her body responded violently, and she clung to him, gasping and moaning, as wave after wave of pleasure and release swept over her. He thrust hard once, then again, his whole body stiffening, his fingers digging into her arms, and moaned her name.
She threw her arms around him and pulled him close, her chin resting on his broad shoulder. He hugged her tightly, his hands stroking her back and hair, as the stiffness subsided from his body. As he slipped from her, he pulled back and glanced down.
“This is only a temporary separation,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up in that adorable way he had. “I promise you that.”
“I certainly hope so.” She kissed the corners of his mouth the way she’d wanted to for days now. “I do have one question.”
“What’s that?”
“What do you think Martha Stewart would say about what we just did on my kitchen counter?”
He burst out laughing, leaning his forehead against hers while he chuckled. When he looked up again, his blue eyes were warm.
“I didn’t expect to find you, Jen,” he said. “Now that I have, I might not let you go.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” He shook his head, a look of wonder on his face. “I swear, when I looked up and saw you the other day, I could have sworn the earth moved.”
“Oh, come on, Anderson.” She poked a finger in his abdomen. “Next you’re going to tell me you saw stars and heard angels sing.”
“I thought you ladies liked that mushy stuff,” he said, feigning hurt. “Does this mean I don’t have to buy you flowers and candy either?”
“Don’t get carried away,” she murmured, nibbling his lower lip.
“Now that’s nice,” he whispered. He took her hand and guided it to his manhood. She felt it beginning to stir in her fingers. “I think the earth is starting to move again.”
“You’re terrible!” She slapped at him playfully and slid off the counter. “I need food before we move worlds again.”
“I’ve got an idea.” He scooped up the bucket of chicken and the bag of Chinese. “Let’s have dinner in bed.”
“Why not?” she said. “Considering what we just did in the kitchen, I think it’s only right.”
They stretched across Jen’s queen size bed, the food containers between them on the mattress.
“I’m starved!” Jen bit off a piece of the drumstick she’d pulled from the bucket. A morsel of chicken fell onto her left breast.
“So am I.” Will leaned over and licked the chicken off her, then ran his tongue around her nipple, leaving it shiny with chicken grease.
“You want some fried rice?” Jen dipped a plastic spoon into the container.
“I’d love some.”
“Good.” She rolled onto her back, dropping a spoonful into the hollow between her breasts. “Come and get it.”
He did. Then she dropped some in the hollow at the base of his throat and ate from there, moving down to suck on his nipples when she was done. When it was his turn, he laid a trail of chicken pieces from her breasts to her pubic hair, licking and sucking as he ate, then continued on downward. She felt herself becoming wet with his
