Page 6 of His Fantasy Bride (Things To Do Before You Die)

Today was different. Somehow she had stripped the veneer of civilization from him. A tic jumped in his cheek, and his jaw tensed as he stared down at her. Then with a certain deliberation he reached out and trailed one hand over the curve of her breast, caressing the swollen nipple through the thin material covering it, rubbing with his palm, sending sparks of desire shooting through her. Hooking a finger in the shoulder of her leotard, he raised an eyebrow as if in question but didn’t wait for an answer, just shoved the strap down over her arm, then the other one, so she was naked from the waist up.

“Cristo,” he muttered.

She held her breath as he cupped one pale breast in his big hand. And the contrast was the most erotic thing she had ever seen. Slowly, he lowered his head, stroked his tongue over one taut peak, and she felt the caress between her thighs, growing hot and wet for him.

“More,” she whispered.

His mouth never left her, but his eyes rose to her face, and he peered up at her through a fringe of midnight-dark lashes. He held her gaze as his hand tightened on her breast and he closed his lips around her nipple, suckling her hard. Her breath was coming short and sharp, and her hips rose of their own accord as if begging for his touch. It had been so long, too long.

He lost it then, showering kisses on her breasts, on her throat, nipping with his sharp teeth, sucking, licking. He bit down on her earlobe, drew it into his mouth while his hands played with her breasts, fingers tugging at the nipples, pinching hard, just this side of pain as though he knew what she liked. And maybe he did—maybe he read the small moans she couldn’t hold back.

She shifted her hips against him, rubbed up against the hardness of his erection through the material of his pants and her leotard. There was too much separating them; she needed flesh on flesh, and she pushed a hand between their bodies to fumble with his belt buckle. By the time she finally got it undone, she was breathing heavily, need driving her.

She wanted his hands on her sex, his cock deep inside her, and if she didn’t get it soon, she was going to go insane. He must have read something in her frantic movements, as his hands slid from her breasts, down over her flat stomach beneath the tight material, pushing it out of the way over the sharp jut of her hip bones. He stepped back so she could complete the process, shoving the leotard over her legs, kicking it off, taking her tights and panties with it, leaving her naked. His nostrils flared as he took her in, his eyes narrowing as he trailed a finger over the ruby stud piercing her navel then brushed over the small tattoo at her right hip.

As though he couldn’t stop himself, he cupped her between the thighs, his fingers slipping between the folds of her sex and then into the hot wet heat of her. He flexed his finger, rubbing against her inner walls, sending tingles through her body. Her eyes drifted closed as she concentrated on the sensations coursing through her.

“You want me.”

At his words, her eyes flew open, and she looked at him. It wasn’t a question and she had no thought or desire to deny it.

Holding her gaze, he withdrew his finger, gliding it up between the folds of her sex to find the swollen bundle of nerves. He circled it with his fingertip until her hips were jerking toward him, begging for more.

“Please.”

He stroked her once, twice, and then massaged the tiny nub. Seconds later and she was flying. Her head fell back as pure pleasure pulsed through her. He stayed motionless while the pulsating between her thighs slowed to a steady throb, then he squeezed her clit between his thumb and finger and she came again.

As he stepped back, panic filled her. He was leaving her and she needed him. She couldn’t allow him to go. But before she could speak, his hand dropped to the fastener of his pants. She held her breath as he flicked it open and lowered the zip. His cock sprang free—hard and huge, satin skin taut, the head flaring and flushed deep red. Saliva flooded her mouth as she stared. He wrapped his fist around himself and squeezed, then took a small step toward her.

There was something she had to remember. “Stop.”

He slowly raised his head.

“Condom. Bag.” She waved a hand at her bag sitting on the side, a foot away.

His eyes narrowed, but he reached across and pushed the bag toward her. She scrabbled inside with shaky hands. She always carried condoms. Didn’t she? While she hadn’t had sex in a long time, old habits die hard. A sigh of relief left her as her fingers found the foil packet. “Voila!”

His brows drew together. “So you’re not a virgin, then?”

She bit her lip. “I never said I was a virgin.”

“I…” He shook his head.

Don’t stop.

He couldn’t stop now. This was her one and only chance. She could justify this one time to herself. She was in shock, had needed to stop him talking, but after this she couldn’t hide behind excuses. Reaching out she trailed a finger down his chest, felt the heat of his skin, then lower to wrap around the steely length of his erection. With her other hand, she passed him the condom, held her breath, saw the moment he gave in. He shoved into her hand, and she squeezed him hard and released him, blowing out her breath as he tore the packet open and rolled the condom down over his length.

He took a step toward her, his fingers parting the folds of her sex, and then he shoved into her with one hard lunge of his hips. He filled her completely, and she gasped at the sensation of all that masculine power deep inside her. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she shifted closer, wanting more. His hands slid into her hair on either side of her face, tugging it free of the pony tail, then lowering his head to kiss her, hard, his tongue thrusting inside as he flexed his hips then withdrew from her and she tightened her legs, holding onto him.

He released her mouth, moved his hands to her hips and gripped her tight, then pushed in, his movements almost rough. But she welcomed him, her body softening.

She lay on the cold, hard counter, back arched, and he placed his palms over her breasts as he thrust into her over and over. She kept her gaze fixed on his face, because he was quite the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, his cheeks flushed with heat, his eyes dark, half-closed. She lost track of time as her surroundings faded, her world reduced to nothing more than the sensation of his big body on her, in her. Inside everything coiled up tight, a heavy weight swelling in her belly as he drove her upward, each powerful thrust of his hips stronger than before, skirting on the edge of pain, his fingers digging into her breasts, his expression twisted with sheer concentration.

Then he changed, slowed, and ground his hips against her clit with each inward stroke, and she was flying once again, bursting into a million pieces. Shattering.

She vaguely sensed him coming inside her, his growl filling her ears, the final thrust pushing her backward so her head hit the mirror behind her. His face buried in the side of her neck, and he went still.

It seemed like an age they lay there. Something beneath her dug into her left buttock. She hadn’t noticed it before—hardly surprising—and she wriggled beneath his heavy weight. When he still didn’t move she pushed a hand between them and shoved him hard.

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