Page 18 of Atlanta Heat (Tempting SEALs 6)

Sheathed, his hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as he nudged the broad head of his cock against the slick entrance to her pussy.

“Don’t stop, baby, let me watch you play with your pretty breasts while I take you.”

The hard crest wedged inside her, stretching her, sending rivulets of burning pleasure radiating from the slight penetration.

“Ah, that’s a good girl,” he whispered, his voice heavy, his breathing as labored as her own. “So pretty, Em. So damned pretty.”

So erotic. Emerson stared back at him, working her nipples with her fingers, feeling the alternating sensations building inside her, burning through her nerve endings.

It was sexy, it was wicked, tempting him even as he worked the thick length of his erection inside her.

“Macey. It’s so good.” Her eyes closed, her fingers tightened on her nipples. It was too good, too intense, too much pleasure.

“So sweet.” His voice was rough as he worked himself deeper. “So sweet and tight. Hell, Em. You’re killing me.”

He pressed to the hilt. The head of his erection throbbed inside her, heated and heavy, iron hard, spiking the heat burning beneath her flesh now. She felt her womb clench and ripple. Her clit, pressed solidly against his pelvis, throbbed on the brink of release.

“Macey.” Trembling, she fought for the orgasm just out of reach.

“You make me lose my control,” he breathed out roughly. “God, Em, I want this to be good for you. So damned good for you.”

Shock shattered her. Had anyone ever cared if it was good for her? If she needed to come, or if she felt the same pleasure they did?

“It’s good. So good.” It was better than anything she had ever known.

His eyes narrowed on her then. “Oh baby, it’s about to get so much better.”

She didn’t think it could get better until he began to move. She expected him to take her hard and fast, to rush to the finish line and his own release. But Macey was a sensual demon. She should have known he liked to play, liked to draw the pleasure out. He had a lazy drawl, a patient way of moving, and the sleepy sensuality in his gaze should have warned her.

“Lift your breasts to me, Emerson,” he growled. “Lift those pretty nipples for me.”

She cupped her breasts and offered the hard sensitive points to him, then screamed out her pleasure as his lips surrounded one tight peak.

It wasn’t just the hard, heated suction of his mouth, but the thrusts of his cock, the rasp of his pelvis against her clit. It combined to push her higher, but held her back just enough to keep her locked to earth rather than flying in release.

“Not yet,” he bit out, moving from one nipple to the other. “Not yet, baby. Feel good. Feel so fucking good for me.”

“It’s too much,” she cried, trying to push past that final barrier.

“It’s not enough. Not yet.”

She released her breasts to grab onto his shoulders. The sensations were too much, too violent, too much pleasure. But it didn’t stop him. He cupped them himself, his mouth devouring first one then the other as he began to stroke his cock inside her in a smooth, controlled rhythm.

Each thrust, each draw of his mouth stole another piece of her mind until she was nothing more than a creature of his pleasure. His pleasure, her pleasure. It whipped through her, broke through barriers she hadn’t known she’d erected against him and had her fighting for release, fighting him for her release.

His hoarse chuckle pushed her higher. The slam of his hips as she writhed against him, then his hard hands gripping her hips, his lips latching hungrily to her nipple and his thrusts increasing.

That was what she needed. She lifted to him, her gaze filmy. Ecstasy washed through her veins, built and burned until she was screaming his name, screaming and exploding beneath him in a cataclysm of pleasure that ripped through her body.

She heard his shattered male cry, felt him tense and shudder as her arms tightened around his shoulders and the pleasure burned through her. Like lava. Like white-hot electricity shot straight to her soul.

EIGHT

SHE WAS IN LOVE with him. She may have denied it before the mind-blowing sex, but hours later, curled against him in his bed, exhausted and sated, she couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Letting him go was going to bite. Watching him walk away, that careless smile on his face, would break her heart.

“This should be over in time for the March-Illison-Beckinmore family reunion.” Amusement laced his voice. “The biggest damned get-together in the state of Georgia. We hold it on Grandpa’s farm further south every year. And every year most of the men walk away with bruises from a fight or two, and the women walk away irritated and grumbling because they fought again. And everyone agrees it’s the best year we’ve ever had.”

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