Page 13 of Painted in Love

She wrinkled her nose, a smile twinkling in her eyes. “Luckily for me, I think ahead. When I went to the restroom downstairs, I slipped into the men’s room. Guess what kind of machine they had hanging on the wall?”

He gasped. “No.”

She nodded wickedly, stirring him to greater heights. Then she pointed past him. “Check my tunic pocket.”

She was freaking incredible.

He dove off the bed, swiping up her tunic, feeling in the pocket where she’d stowed the credit card. He came out with a strip of three condoms.

“They didn’t come in singles.” Then she held out her hand. “Come here. I’ll put it on for you.”

Like a teenage boy, he could have lost it just at the sound of her voice.

The fog had rolled past the window so quickly that it was as if nothing else existed but them, together, in here. He stalked her like the predator she wanted him to be. A graceful panther, with dark hair and gleaming skin.

He stole her breath and made her heart beat a thousand times a minute. Her mouth watered for a taste of him. She should have been self-conscious; it had been so long. But this man doused every ounce of embarrassment, because she had to have him.

Grabbing the strip of condoms from him, she tore one off and threw the rest on the bed. While he was standing, she crawled to the edge and took him in her hand for the first time.

His groan was pure pleasure, his growl pure predator, his fingers in her hair like the claws of the beast she wanted to release. Still stroking that silken flesh, she ripped the packet open with her teeth and drove him crazy with her touch.

Then she growled like his lioness. “Get on the bed and lean back.”

She wasn’t submissive, but then, she’d never been dominant either. But for this, she wanted him under her complete control. When he threw himself back on the bed, his erection standing straight and tall and ready for her, she slowly rolled the condom down, stroking him through it.

Until he gave another guttural groan. “Christ. I can’t stand anymore. Do it. Now. Please. I’m begging.”

She gave him exactly what they both wanted.

Climbing on top of him, she caressed him as she guided him to her entrance. Then slowly, so slowly, she slid down onto him, sensation shooting through her, his heat making her a little crazy.

She savored the feel of him inside her. It had been so long. As she seated herself on him, she realized for the first time in five years how much she’d missed a man filling her up. And this man was better than any imagining.

Then he thrust upward, going impossibly deep, impossibly perfect. She moaned her pleasure. “So good.”

She thought about taking him for a slow ride, but there was something about the burning glow of his eyes, the rigid feel of him inside her. She couldn’t think slow. She could only think fast and hot.

Resting her hands on his chest, she rose, then took him deep inside her once again. And again. He put his hands on her hips, pulling her down on him, guiding her. The intense friction filled her body with heat, her skin turning hot and pink.

She rode him, taking him hard and fast, as if he were a stallion and they were galloping across the moor. Closing her eyes, she clenched her fingers against his skin, her nails biting into him, her body milking him.

He swore. “Christ, you make me nuts. You’re so damn good.”

She didn’t have the breath to speak smoothly; he’d stolen it with his devilishly handsome face painted beautiful in the dim room. Words fell in pants from her lips. “So good. Need this so bad.”

She reached for the peak—almost there. Then he put his hand between her legs, touched her hot button. A wave crested inside her, taking her higher, higher, until it crashed through her. She didn’t simply cry out, she wailed. Not caring who heard. Not caring what he would think. Because it had been so long. Because he was so good. Because he felt so perfect between her thighs.

Her climaxing body worked him, and she felt him throb deep inside, knew he was close. She tensed her muscles around him, and with one more growl, followed by a deep groan, he pulsed inside her, filling her.

That brought a second wave crashing over her, and she lost herself to sensation. To the exquisite feel of him deep inside her. To everything she’d missed over the last five years.

He made her wonder how she could live without this for the next five.

She lay atop him while he throbbed inside her. Her hair was like silk across his chest, her skin hot against him. Her body contracted around him with an aftershock, and he groaned softly against her ear.

She’d been so beautifully vocal, crying out her ecstasy. Many women were careful about the sounds they made, careful with their makeup, their hair. But she’d taken him with complete abandon, not caring how she looked or sounded.

That made the sex all the hotter.

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