The creamy clench of her body on his cock.
Lowering himself to his forearms, he took her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss.
And pressed into her as deep as he could go.
She gasped, turning her face away, but he recaptured her mouth again, angling his head for a better fit, taking her mouth as he took her body. Hips grinding, need consuming.
On a vibrating cry, she gripped his shoulders, her nails biting in his flesh.
And he loved it.
He wanted to be gentle, but instead he pounded into her, harder and deeper until she lifted her slim legs around him. Digging her heels into the small of his back, she matched his urgent rhythm.
He fought to stall the inevitable.
A losing battle.
Lifting up with a harsh groan, he rocked out his release, only vaguely aware of Yvette watching him, her hands moving gently over his chest and shoulders.
Sucking in air, totally spent, he sank down onto her small giving body, only some of his tension now gone.
Yvette continued to stroke him.
Outwardly, she stayed still and calm, peaceful in the way she put small kisses to his damp skin, how she tunneled her fingers through his hair.
But inside, he felt her still holding him tight. Felt the little ripples of her need. The heat of her skin and the hammering of her heart.
Attempting to clear the fog of pleasure, he drew in a deep breath, but that only tantalized him with the scent of sex hanging in the air.
He had his face in her neck, so he nuzzled against her and felt her tremble.
He’d left her on the brink of release, without taking her over. And still she touched him with affection.
Smiling against her throat, he said, “Told you so.”
“Mmm?” She kissed him again.
And damned if he didn’t feel her hot little tongue lick over his sweaty shoulder.
Struggling up onto his forearms once more, Cannon looked at her. Her lips were puffy, her hair tangled around her. She had whisker burn on her cheeks and the heavy eyes of a woman in extreme need.
“How do you feel?”
“Better.”
The smile tugged at his mouth. “Yeah?”
With a languid nod, she coasted her nails lightly down his pecs. “Throbbing.” Back up to his shoulders. “Maybe...coiled.”
He gave a slight press against her. “Wet.”
“That, too.” She shifted. “I wish I could feel you, and only you.”
Dangerous. But damn, it turned him on, the idea of taking her bareback, nothing between them.
Her flesh and his.
He bent to her mouth, kissing her idly this time, his tongue playing with hers. “I need to get rid of the rubber.” Amid her protests, he rolled off her and stood.
He couldn’t have prepared for her impact. He looked at her sprawled on the bed, his for the taking, and it did things to him.
Crazy, possessive things.
Things he realized he’d been feeling even before she’d left for California. Now they were amplified, more tangible because he could touch and taste her.
Fuck her.
Make love to her.
As he stood there looking at her, she shifted her feet restlessly, knotted her hands in the sheet.
He’d thought to spend time bathing her, teasing her, but he couldn’t. Ignoring the rubber for the moment, he sat beside her on the bed and cupped a hand between her open thighs.
Her eyes drifted shut and she lifted into him.
Watching her was the most erotic thing he could imagine. Lacking haste, he worked his fingers over her, then one finger in her. She writhed, her hips twisting, her breath coming faster.
Seeing her primed like this stirred him sooner than he would have expected.
He withdrew, only to sink in two fingers, curling them slightly to reach that special spot for her. She followed where he led without inhibition, gasping, rolling her hips, getting so very close but not quite there.
Coming down beside her, propped on one elbow, Cannon kissed her mouth, then her ni**les, suckling each in turn until she was mindless with wanting.
Down her belly again.
“Ah, God. Cannon, please.”
“We’re getting there.”
She fisted a hand in his hair, trying to hurry him.
He pulled his fingers free to tease her glistening clit. “Here, baby? Is that what you want?”
For an answer, she purred and widened her thighs more.
He circled, spreading her wetness around that tiny bundle of ultrasensitive nerves, applied careful pressure, gently tugged.
“Cannon, please...”
He pushed his fingers deep again—and drew her into his mouth.
Fingers still working her, he stroked with his tongue, rasping over her, pushing her, and within two minutes she broke. Her moans were loud and real and powerful enough to get him at the starting gate again.
She’d barely settled, her breath still catching, when he rid himself of the spent condom and rolled on another. Giving her no time to prepare, he cupped his hands over her knees, pushed them far back and sank into her.
Her moan was both pleasure and protest.
“You are so f**king wet now.” Already the slick friction built. With each deep slide of his cock, she tightened more until they were both caught in the hot clench of powerful release. Neck and back arched, she gave a deep guttural groan, her muscles squeezing like a fist. While coming, he kept his gaze on her, the sight of her heightening his pleasure. Even as she drained him, his body continued to buzz.
Long minutes later, when he finally worked up the energy to lift himself, he found her fast asleep, dead to the world.