Love's Rhythm by Lexxie Couper

curling, her knees trembling. Oh God, if he kept this up she was going to come on his face.
    As if he heard her very thoughts, or knew her very want, he placed her right thigh over his shoulder, fucking her more thoroughly with his tongue. She cried out, her nails scraping at his scalp. “Nick, I-I think…”
    He nipped her clit with gentle teeth and sucked it better, the action turning her words to whimpering sounds. The more he lavished her pussy with his mouth, his fingers, the more she lost herself to the pleasure. The only man who had ever tasted her was eating her out against her front door and nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed except Nick’s mouth on her sex and the pleasure swelling through her.
    Nothing else existed except his tongue in her—
    He stood, her leg sliding from his shoulder. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it aside, his hands going to his fly straight after. She helped him, needing his dick. Lord, she needed his dick. More than she needed air. She needed it inside her.
    And then it was in her hand, long and thick and so hard it throbbed. So hard and so warm and so hers. Hers.
    “Can’t wait, babe,” he groaned, the words panted breaths against the side of her neck. “Oh, fuck, I can’t…condom…need…”
    She had them. Somewhere in the house. Bought for Josh the day she found him necking with a girl at the soccer fields. Bought but never given. The girl hadn’t lasted, and she’d lost her nerve. But the condoms were still here. Somewhere.
    Nick closed his hand around hers, stilling her pumping motion. “I need…” he choked, lips scalding her throat, her chin. “Jesus, Lauren, I’m going to fucking come on your hand if you don’t…”
    Pre-come wet her fingers. His breath fanned her face before he was kissing her again. Kissing her face, her temple, her throat as he squeezed his cock with her hand. As he fucked her gripping fingers. And before she knew it the word was on her lips, lips being bitten and nibbled by his. “Pill,” she burst out on a breath. “I’m on the—”
    He was inside her before she could finish the sentence. Inside her, stretching her. Pumping into her, one hand yanking her leg up around his hip, squeezing her arse, the other cupping and kneading her breast, pinching her nipple.
    He was inside her, filling her, and she cried out. Clung to him. Squeezed him with her inner muscles, wanting more. More. So much more. And he gave it to her, a long, deep, driving thrust that pushed her faster and faster and faster to the edge. An edge she knew. The most exquisite, consuming, rapturous edge. An edge she’d balanced on so many times before with him.
    “Come for me, babe,” he panted, lips on hers, “Come for me.”
    She did. A shuddering convulsion claimed her core. Fire singed up her spine. The soles of her feet tingled, and she came, his name tearing from her throat, his flesh buried in hers, their bodies joined. She came and then he was coming with her, his cock pumping inside her, his rhythm wild and frantic. His hands held her, gripped her. His moans became something else, something primitive and primal. The sound of utter release and absolute pleasure. The very sounds falling from her lips in shallow, moaning cries of surrender.
    They climaxed together, as they had always done, from the very first time a lifetime ago, their sweat slicking each other’s bodies, their juices wetting each other’s thighs.
    Lost to everything but the elemental connection of body and soul.
    Until both were spent. Until both rode the last of their climax and strength threatened to desert them.
    Lauren slumped against the door, her eyes closed. Her pulse pounded, an echo of the orgasm still fading within her. Oh God, she’d just had sex with Nick Blackthorne. Unbelievable, soul-wrenching sex. She pressed a trembling hand to her lips, a sob catching in her throat. Lord, was she truly so weak? So…so…messed up?
    “I’m sorry.”
    His hoarse murmur