Page 43 of Mated in Flames

After that, there were definitely no more complaints. We meet in a fierce kiss once more, and I can feel Warwick’s hands roaming my body, tugging my shirt instantly up and over my head. We break the kiss for a moment so that my shirt can be pulled off, and then I lean in again, blindly scrabbling at his buttons.

Perhaps part of this is that I just want to forget. But that doesn’t matter. Yesterday, I almost lost Warwick. The world had stopped for me then, too, and, too late, it had occurred to me just how important this man was in my life. Somewhere along the way, I’ve fallen in love with him. I got him back, but it makes me feel the need to touch him to forget just how lifeless he was, to remind myself that he’s here with me now.

I need him. Now and forever. I know, from the look in his eyes this morning, that part of him is afraid that I’ll leave, but the danger that surrounds him has just convinced me that I never want to leave his side. I want to make sure he stays in this world, with me. I won’t let our story end the same way that my parents did.

With this thought, I yank the rest of the buttons off and push it over his shoulders so that I can run my hands down his smooth chest, feeling the heat from his body under my palm. His cock is hard beneath me, and his hips jerk upward in little, helpless motions, searching for more friction. I can feel his heartbeat, its rhythm normal and strong, beneath my palm, making something frantic within me finally settle.

He’s here. He’s with me. I have him.

I break the kiss and pull away. This time he’s the one left bereft and he follows me for a moment before realizing that I’m standing, fumbling with the button on my shorts.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, looking up at me.

The compliment makes me smile. Sometimes, I wonder what he sees when he looks at me. I wonder how it is that this man has decided that I’m the one for him. I want to spend the rest of our lives finding out the answer.

My shorts drop to the floor and I step out of them, stretching my arms over my head and relishing in the way his eyes wander over my body, clad only in underwear. He’s unzipping his own pants as he stares, shoving them down his legs and kicking them off, and I can see his cock tenting in his boxers, the material wet where the tip is leaking.

Slowly, I reach behind me and unclip my bra, suddenly wanting to give him a show, and he reaches down with a growl.

“Uh-uh,” I say, making him pause, and I give him a wicked smile. “Don’t touch. That’s mine.”

He groans again, but his hand falls to his side even as he pants. I allow my bra to fall to the floor and then I slide my panties down my legs, pulling them off before I allow them to puddle on the floor. Then I kneel down beside Warwick, seeing how his eyes are locked intensely on me, and finger the hem of his boxers.

His hips buck. He’s close, as I am, the intensity of everything between us making everything hard and fast. But I’m not beyond teasing him just a little, needing to hear the sounds that he makes to remind me that this is all real, that he’s with me.

I drag his boxers down, careful not to touch his weeping cock, and he lifts his hips impatiently.

“Fuck, Luci,” he groans, so far gone that he shortens my name. “Hurry up.”

I pull his boxers away and crawl over him, throwing a leg at him once more. He looks up at me, gaze dark and full of fire, and my heart beats faster as I see his desire.

God, I love this man.

I’m so wet with my own desire that my legs shudder, straining to hold me on my knees as I hover over him. I reach down and grip his cock in one firm hand, making him moan, and I slowly lower myself, guiding it toward me. When he pierces me, we both gasp, and I pause for a second, my legs shuddering even more.

More, I need more. I lower myself down further, his hips jerking up slightly to help me in, and, when I’m fully seated on his lap, I press my forehead to his shoulder, catching my breath. His hands are on my hips again, his grip almost bruising, and I pant, overwhelmed with the feeling of having to pull him into myself.

When I’m ready, I look up again. Warwick’s eyes are closed as he concentrates on breathing, almost as far gone as I am. Then pop open however, as I slide myself up and then back down.

It takes us a moment to find a rhythm. It’s not the first time we’ve done this, but I need to be in control right now, to touch and know he’s here. Warwick is perfectly happy to give this to me, his hands only guiding me as he bucks his hips up to meet mine with every downward thrust.

It isn’t as fast and furious as I expect it to be. But each thrust is long and deep, and my eyes roll back as he seems to be pulled deeper and deeper into me, my muscles tight around him. I lose track of time as I bounce on his lap, feeling the building heat in my stomach. All too soon, my own thrusts become sloppy, my legs struggling to help me up until it’s Warwick’s hands that urge me, so close that I can almost see the wave as it hovers over me.

And then it crashes. I slam myself down one final time and slump against Warwick, my eyes closed tightly as I cry out wordlessly, my entire body shuddering. I feel Warwick thrusting up a few more times before he, too, shouts out, and we ride our orgasms out, the desire swarming over us in overwhelming waves.

Slowly, it recedes and I open my eyes. I’m leaning against Warwick’s chest, boneless, and I can feel his cock, hard and ready to go again. I don’t see any reason to get up.

Warwick moves beneath me and, with a groan, I pull myself up and then slump down at his side. Warwick’s arm slides around me and I close my eyes.

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