Page 48 of Every Rose

Chapter Sixteen

He followed her down onto the bed, his body hot and needy against hers. His hands were everywhere, exciting her, learning her. Her skin was pale against his darkness, soft against his hardness. And yet his mouth was so soft, tender almost as it traced the line of her collarbone, dipping to her breasts. He studied the corset bra for a moment as though it were a puzzle. Then he reached and slipped the black silk bow open.

She sighed as he leaned forward and licked the skin he’d exposed.

Unhooking each of the front hooks was as complicated as the studs on his dress shirt, but he took his time, opening each one as though it were a gift. The sensations were racing too fast for her to keep up. Her nipples ached for his touch.

And as he put his mouth on one sensitive point, he reached down, slipping his hand into her panties, sliding to her core where she was already slick with desire and playing with her even as his mouth was busy at her breast.

Orgasm one hit her so fast she barely had time to register how close she was. She arched against his fingers, pushing herself against him. He took her lead, giving her what she needed until her back arched right off the bed and her cries echoed off the walls.

He stroked her softly, bringing her down slowly, kissing her easily until her sobbing breath subsided.

“That was—not supposed to happen so fast. It’s, um, been a while.“

His smile was cat-got-the-cream satisfied. “Amazing,” he said. “That was absolutely amazing.”

His arousal was throbbing against her thigh. She said, “Condoms are in the side table.”

“Not so fast,” he said, rising so he could look down at her probably flushed face. “Can you do that again?”

A warm flood of possibilities filled her. She tilted her head, glanced up through her lashes. “Let’s find out.”

“Oh, I do like a challenge.”

“I want you inside me.”

“Strangely, I want that too.” He might joke, but she felt the quiver in his skin. He was controlling himself with an effort. He reached for her night table, and she watched him sheath himself, swiftly and efficiently.

And as he slowly entered her body she felt stretched in places she didn’t think she’d ever been stretched. “Oh,” she moaned, “Oh.”

“You okay?” He stopped, holding her still.

She turned her head until she could kiss him. “I am so much more than okay,” she whispered.

He moved slowly at first, and then faster until she felt the shockwaves begin to rise until she quaked and cried out and stars exploded behind her eyelids.

Matt stayed with her and right when she thought she couldn’t take any more she felt him shudder and burst into a language that had to be Greek.

When their breath had returned to something approaching normal, she said, “What did you yell out at the end there?”

“I yelled?” he blinked at her from sexy hazel eyes.

“You did. In Greek, I think. Was it my name?”

She felt him shrug. “Might have been.”

She thought of Theresa and her magazine articles and felt her own cat-got-the-cream smugness. “Good.”

Then she turned her head. “That was a lot of condoms you put on the table.”

His teeth flashed white as he grinned. “Waste not, want not.”

* * *

Rose woke suddenly, wondering why she was so hot, and then became aware that a very warm male body was pressed up against hers. In that instant of rising from sleep to full consciousness, memories flooded back. They’d never discussed Matt staying the night; she suspected they’d both dropped into exhausted sleep at some point.

Dawn was letting a gauzy film of light into the room, enough for her to watch him sleeping and admire the strong features that made up his face. She was reminded of the Greek statues she’d admired when she traveled through Europe. His nose was strong, his jaw determined, his lips full and soft in sleep.

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