Page 33 of Midnight Secrets

She was propping herself up on his chest with one forearm. Next to her thigh, his penis started hardening. Which was amazing, considering last night. She’d had a banker boyfriend who’d had fewer erections in six months of dating.

“I like making you blush,” he stated and his eyes dropped to her mouth. Isabel knew she looked like a woman who’d had sex all night. Her hair was a tangle of curls that would take a brush with stiff bristles to tame. She was sure she had beard burn all over her face, neck and, um, breasts and probably had a few hickeys, too. She hadn’t had a hickey since the early years of high school. Her mouth felt swollen. Everything felt swollen, including the tender tissues of her sex.

She blushed even harder.

Without any visible effort, Joe placed his big hands under her arms and lifted her fully over him. They were lying face-to-face, breast to chest, groin to groin. And he was now fully erect. Again. His penis was like a warm steel tube against her belly, growing warmer and harder by the second.

“You are, um…” she whispered.

“Yeah. Hell yeah.” His voice was hoarse, eyes burning into hers. He squinted, as if she were a thousand miles away and he had to see every nuance of her expression. “You up with that?”

Was she up with that? She’d had more sex last night than in the past year. And the past six months after the Massacre had been like an historical period, the Era of No Sex. 400-300 BC. It was hard to remember, it felt like eons ago. At the time, she couldn’t imagine anyone touching her or wanting to be touched. Her entire body had been dead to sex, lifeless and dry. She wasn’t lifeless and dry now.

Isabel pressed down with her belly just as he pressed upward and her entire body just bloomed with heat. It opened up, happy to be here in bed with Joe. Knowing for a certainty that good things were about to happen.

“Yes.” Her voice sounded strangled. She coughed to loosen it up. “Yes, it appears that, um, though my head says ‘enough is enough’, my body seems to have other ideas.”

His face was sober now, tense, white lines bracketing his mouth. Thin nostrils flared as they took in more oxygen. “Let’s see,” he said suddenly.

What did he mean—oh. A big hand smoothed over her bottom, farther down, slid a finger inside her. She was wet, ready. Her body knew that before her head did.

Joe lifted his head and kissed her, one of those melting kisses where she had to close her eyes because they couldn’t stay open. His entire body was kissing hers. Wiry chest hairs rubbing against her erect nipples, hard belly rubbing against hers, rough-haired thighs opening hers. His hand cupped a breast, callused thumb circling her nipple, an electric arousal. Oh God, it felt like her skin was crackling, like some painless fire was burning her alive, only it wasn’t killing her, it was bringing her back to life.

His mouth moved to her ear, giving it a little nip that brought goose bumps. He kissed it, whispered, “Lift up.”

Isabel could hardly breathe from the excitement. She had to consciously expand her lungs and pull in breath.

“Lift,” he growled.

She lifted, coming up on her knees. Still watching her carefully, Joe fit himself to her and slowly, slowly guided her down on him, holding her hips.

The pleasure was so intense it felt electric. “God,” she gasped.

“Tell me about it.” His face was tense, rigid. Everything about him was rigid, tightly holding on to control. When he was completely inside her, he stopped, lifting up to kiss her.

As if she needed more stimulation.

Isabel angled her head, licked her tongue in his mouth and felt the answering surge of his penis inside her. Her body answered the only way it knew how, clenching tightly. They gasped in each other’s mouths.

Isabel licked his lips, moved her mouth over that strong, stubbled jaw, licked his ear, bit his earlobe. With each movement of her mouth, his movements grew stronger, faster. She bit his mouth and he jolted, lifting his hips off the bed, moving incredibly deep inside her.

Isabel moaned and Joe wrapped his arms around her so tightly she could feel every movement he made inside her and out. As he started thrusting hard, she was riding him with her body, her belly feeling his rock-hard belly against her, the hair on his thighs abrading the insides of hers, his hands holding her to him as he thrust inside her. Every single inch of her felt possessed by him, touched by him, her body as an extension of his, their excitement rising together, identical, until with a hoarse groan that felt wrenched from him, he started spilling inside her just as she rose over the top. With him.

Spent, Isabel fell bonelessly forward, lying on Joe’s hard, muscled body, breathing heavily. She felt like she’d run a marathon at the spa. Exhausted, yet jazzed. Her body was humming but her mind was completely empty.

When she moved, he slipped out of her and she was sorry but the rest of his body was exciting enough. There was no sexual energy left in her, all fizzled out, though she was still able to appreciate the perfect specimen beneath her. Her hands came to rest on the balls of his shoulders, the muscle there so hard she couldn’t dent it with her fingers.

“Wow,” she murmured, eyes closed. A little nap right about now sounded just great. Vast physical effort, blinding pleasure, a little nap. Perfect sequence of events.

She could feel Joe pushing his chin down to look at her. All he’d be seeing was the top of her head. Her tangled bed-hair head.

“Not so fast, Sleeping Beauty.” He tensed beneath her.

Another round?God no. She couldn’t possibly. The newly awakened sexual part of her brain consulted her body for a second, but nope. Not happening. This was the time of lax muscles and that little nap. Besides, he wasn’t growing erect. If he had he’d have been a wonder of nature or else he’d swallowed about ten little blue pills.

“We’re not sleeping.”

“We’re not?” she asked, not really caring what he said. She wasn’t getting up for anything or anybody. “Yes we are. At least I am. I’m staying right here.”

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