Page 12 of Tempt
“Good.”
“Also, it’s been a while.”
“For me too.” He groaned, sliding in deeper. “Which is why it’s a challenge right now not to tear you apart.”
“Just give me a minute,” I whispered, running my hands down his back, drawing my knees up. “And then you can be as rough as you want.”
With one final stroke, he buried himself, making me gasp. “You sure about that?”
I squeezed my eyes shut against the deep, painful twinge—had he knocked some internal organ out of the way? “Maybe two minutes,” I said, breathing in and out, relaxing my pelvic muscles, latching on to the lovely hum that was building inside me again as he began to move.
In truth, it was probably only about thirty seconds before I had my hands full of his gloriously firm ass, pulling him in deeper, lifting my hips to meet every thrust, my body begging for more even though my mind wasn’t sure I could take it.
As promised, Zach nearly tore me apart. Despite the slow and gentle start, things escalated quickly—at least I think they did, but I’d lost all sense of time, I’d lost all sense of anything except his body on mine, his driving cock, his furious need to go deeper, harder, faster until his body stiffened and I felt him throbbing inside me, a strangled groan in my ear. I hooked my legs around his thighs and dug my nails into his skin, relishing every last pulse.
When he’d caught his breath, he braced himself above me. “I was too fast.”
“You were perfect. That was amazing.”
“You didn’t come with me.”
“I came twicebeforeyou!” I laughed. “You’ve already doubled the number of orgasms I’ve ever had with anyone else, and I don’t even know your last name.”
“It’s Barrett.”
“Mine’s MacAllister.”
“Millie MacAllister.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Cute.”
I smiled too. I’d messed up his hair, and he was all rumpled and sexy. The butterflies were back. “I wish I didn’t have to go, but—”
He shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Huh?”
“Listen, Millie MacAllister. Down in the bar, I told you if you said yes, you’d be up all fucking night. And I meant it.”
I laughed, glancing over at the nightstand clock. “But it’s—”
“It’s barely after midnight. What time is your flight?”
“Nine.”
His grin widened. “Baby, we’re just getting started.”
* * *
I opened my eyes in a panic—shit! What time was it?
I bolted upright in Zach’s bed, relieved when I saw the clock numbers glowing in the dark. It wasn’t quite five. I still had time to sneak back to my room, pack up, and make it to the airport on time. What the hell had I been thinking to fall asleep?
Actually, I hadn’t been capable of thinking at that point, I thought, swinging my feet to the floor. My mind still wasn’t working right. Zach had literally fucked my brains out.
I glanced behind me at the sleeping figure of the man who’d made me see starsfive times. His breathing was slow and even, surprisingly quiet. Gingerly, I got to my feet, suppressing a groan at the stiffness in my muscles. I was going to be sore all week.
The carpet was soft under my feet as I moved around the room, hunting for the various pieces of my clothing from last night—bustier, dress, shoes...but where the heck had my panties landed? Frowning, I got down on my hands and knees near the foot of the bed and felt around. At some point, Zach had turned off the lamp, so I couldn’t see a thing.
Aha! My fingers encountered some lace, and I stood to step into them. Panties in place, I was struggling to manage the closures of my bustier when the lamp came on.
