Dating and Other Dangers by Natalie Anderson Page A

hands were pressed hard into the floor,and she pushed harder on him as she lifted her hips and ground back down. The sensation was outrageously awesome as she slid up off him and then slammed back down. Slow and deep and again and again.
    He said nothing. Nor did she. But she felt the way he was forcing his breathing to stay regular. She smiled, watching him watching her breasts sway with her rhythm. She touched them, cupping them in her hands and presenting her taut nipples to his lips.
    His hands lifted, tight on her thighs, and he tasted—as she wanted. She laughed, drunk on the excitement of seeing him so desperate for her.
    His hands suddenly tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, his tongue rampaging into her mouth, not letting her go and giving no respite from the ferocious, powerful kisses. She half moaned, half hummed with ecstasy into his mouth as he started thrusting up to meet her—making the ride even more incredible.
    The thrill rolled in on unstoppable waves, crashing over her, tossing her into a pleasure-filled place that was so captivating she alternately held her breath and then gasped for relief as they ground closer and closer again. And then she could no longer move, no longercontrol the ride. Her senses, her sanity crumbled under the onslaught of pure, unbearable ecstasy. His arms tightened as she quivered and then shuddered in the throes of an orgasm like no other.
    As it ebbed he moved, flipping her over, crushing her beneath him. And pounded. Sliding further and harder into her heat. She clamped on him, arched up every time to pull him closer still and not let him go. With every surge of friction she was driven back to the brink. She cried out helplessly—wanting a rest but desperate for more. His breathing rasped in her ears, melding with her own broken entreaties as she chanted his name again and again. They were way past the boundaries of civility, burning now with raw, instinctive need. Blinded by sensations, beyond reason, just desperate and aching and frantic for final fulfilment.
    Nothing had ever felt as amazing as him driving into her with such magnificent masculinity. Nothing could ever surpass this moment. He lifted her higher and higher with his ferocious force, filling her with power and strength and pure, sweet joy.
    Her scream cracked as it became too much to bear. He reared up, grinding forward in onelast, fierce long thrust, roaring his own satisfaction, tossing her body once more into convulsions of rapture and her mind into blank bliss.
    Even though she could see again, she kept her eyes shut, flinging her arm over her eyes to hide awhile longer. He was close by, still half on top of her, but he’d tumbled slightly to the side so he didn’t crush her. So she could breathe.
    But she couldn’t. Her heart galloped. She felt the vibrations of his heart thudding too, and his harsh breathing as they both fought to recover as fast as possible.
    She didn’t think she’d ever recover. Her whole body throbbed. Sweat slid. Her lips were so well used she was almost bruised.
    An aftershock made her tremble uncontrollably. She felt his body flinch in response—and hold for a moment. But his tension didn’t ease. And hers grew all the more.
    Silently he took his weight on his hands and withdrew from her body.
    ‘Excuse me a minute,’ he muttered.
    She didn’t answer, didn’t move as she listened to his footsteps recede. Then she peeped past her elbow. Empty room. Quickly she satup and reached for her tee shirt, slipped it down as best she could. Her panties were wet and cold. Most of her was wet and cold—all heat sucked away by some giant invisible vacuum cleaner the moment he’d left the room.
    Yeah, whoever it was who reckoned that sex dispelled tension was wrong. Because it was so much worse now. And not just tension—terror. What the hell had she been thinking? Rising panic sent her pulse frantic, threatening to burst her eardrums.
    She struggled to her feet, stuffed her