Page 30 of One Night Stand After Another
“Again.”
As she inhaled, he dragged his finger out of her. As she exhaled, he stroked deep, pressing, rubbing, paying such close attention she felt like they were one. In. Out. The pleasure grew.
“What.” She pulled air in, catching a wave of pleasure that carried her up and crested. “The.” She blew it out slowly. “Hell.” She inhaled, catching another wave. This one carried her higher. She reached, panting, and fell, emptying. The next wave was coming for her. She caught it, lifting, flying. His lips closed around her, and her breath left her in a scream.
She opened her eyes in wonder gazing down at him, his hand buried between her legs, his mouth connecting them, his eyes seeing into her soul as she flew apart, riding him shamelessly into ecstasy.
She kept breathing deeply, feeling aftershocks with every new influx of oxygen. He didn’t stop, keeping her rhythm. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers and grasped her hips again. His eyes gleamed. He rose to his feet, grabbed her towel from the floor and spread it on the counter, never losing contact with her, keeping her balanced on legs that felt like rubber.
He boosted her onto the counter and hit his knees again. “Better angle.” He bent his head.
She sprawled in an undignified heap on the bathroom counter, legs dangling over his back, cold mirror pressing into hers. “I can’t—I just…give me a second…” She trailed off, giving in to the decadence of his slowly sweeping tongue. She felt like he was touching every part of her, hands caressing her hips and belly as he thoroughly claimed her with his mouth.
She lifted a hand to brush his hair out of his eyes and their gazes locked. He smiled. Every part of her curled toward him as he flicked her center with the tip of his tongue.
Her belly trembled. “You can’t be serious.”
He didn’t stop, didn’t answer. The pleasure was so focused, so intense, so different from the full body sweep and crash she’d felt a minute ago. The only common factor was the scream she could feel building in her chest. Just when she thought she might shatter, he pressed his mouth to the very spot he’d been tormenting with his tongue and sucked. She saw stars. Literally stars flaming in the edges of her vision, shooting across her brain, setting reality on fire and leaving her a smoldering heap on the counter.
“Fucking love your body. So amazing. Your skin is so soft.”
She couldn’t move. Her eyelids weighed a ton. Pulling air into her lungs felt like bench-pressing a car. “I think I’m dead,” she said faintly.
The puff of his chuckle made her flinch. He eased away from her. She felt hard muscle press against her breasts and strong arms embrace her. He lifted her upright and then picked her up.
She still couldn’t open her eyes. He laid her gently on the bed. She was cold now, shivering with reaction.
“Hang on. Let me get the covers,” he said.
She knew she should be returning the favor. His balls must be midnight blue by now, like that yarn he’d picked out for the socks she wasn’t going to make him. She floated there, in the deep bliss of satisfaction, feeling and hearing Zane doing something with the bed.
“Roll over.” His strong hands nudged her, and she rolled, landing face first in pillows. She wrapped her arms around one and sighed happily.
“Perfect,” he said. “We’re doing the next one together.”
“Next one?” Another orgasm might kill her. “I’m more than happy to let you,” she paused, not quite sure how to politely phraseget yourself off using my willing bodyso she just skipped it. “But there’s no way I can come again.”
“Okay,” he said, fitting himself to her back. Oh God, so warm. “Condom is all set. May I come inside?”
“Yes, please.”
His hand stroked from her shoulder to her wrist, leaving flickering trails of heat. He cupped her breast, briefly rubbing her nipple with his thumb, and then moved his hand over her ribs, her waist, her thigh. With small nudges of his hips and some gentle but relentless maneuvering, he wrapped himself around her so that she was nearly on her stomach, resting on the pillow. His fingers slipped to her core and explored, meeting no resistance as he pressed his cock to her opening, he leaned, pressing her even more deeply into the pillow. She could breathe, but she couldn’t really move anything but her lungs. She was wrapped so tightly in his arms, pinned by his hips, nowhere to go except wherever he wanted to take her.
Suddenly, she was ready.
The post-orgasmic bliss that had jellied every muscle vanished, and she tightened around him. He groaned. “So fucking good with you.”
He was hitting the same spot with his cock that he’d been fingering earlier in the bathroom, but his cock was way bigger than one or two fingers, and she was hyper-sensitive to his touch. This felt unbelievable. This might unmake her. She felt like she might fly apart. A keen burst from her throat.
“That’s right—I’ve got you,” he growled in her ear. His arms wrapped tighter, holding her together, as his hips drove her higher, lower, each thrust harder, each breath shorter.
He yanked the pillow she was clutching out from under her and rolled her face down into the bed. His legs clamped hers together, making her walls grip him so tightly there was barely any room to thrust. His forearms bracketed hers, taking enough of his weight not to crush her. His hands wrapped around her wrists, manacling her to him, to the pleasure he was forcing on her, in her, no more space between them, no room to recover, he rocked his hips, creating intense pressure. “Please, please, please,” she begged, not even knowing what she wanted but hoping he’d figure it out and give it to her.
He did, lifting his hips and powering straight to her center in exactly the right way to make her scream into the mattress. The tension broke in powerful spasms that sent bliss into every corner of her body. Rainbows burst in her vision, color combinations of stunning, variegated beauty. His harsh groan in her ear added to her pleasure. His too-tight embrace made her feel anchored. That she felt so good anchored to him would probably worry her later, but all was fine right now.
“Don’t move,” he said, pulling away from her.
“Can’t,” she barely managed to whisper. Her throat was scratchy. Would she have a voice tomorrow? She didn’t care.
