Mad About You by Joan Kilby

sound of his low moans, she guessed she was succeeding. He’d taken her to the brink of orgasm, then retreated. She was almost painfully aroused and was determined to give as good as she’d got. Whatever happened tomorrow, she didn’t want either of them to ever forget that they’d had this night together.
    She scooted down a little farther on the bed and grasped his erection in both hands. So hard and yet so velvety smooth. She ran her fingers up the thick member laced with raised veins, squeezing and stroking, then she put the head fully into her mouth and closed her lips around him. She savored the taste of the salty drop before sucking, gently at first, then as he began to move against her mouth, harder. With one hand she stroked his length while with the other she cupped his balls and squeezed lightly, cradling their weight in her palm.
    After only a short while, he stopped her with a low groan. “Hang on.” He got out of bed and rummaged in his suitcase for a condom. Quickly, he sheathed himself. “I want to be inside you.”
    “I want that, too.” She knew she shouldn’t harbor any romantic notions where Scott was concerned but she couldn’t help it. When they came with each other the first time she wanted him inside her, gazing deep into her eyes. Yes, she hoped the sex would be hot, hotter than she’d experienced with other men, but it was the emotional connection with Scott that she really longed for.
    His mouth met hers in a searing kiss and this time there was nothing gentle or exploratory. It was demanding and insistent, leaving no moist recess untasted. His teeth pressed against her lips, bruising them as his hands molded her breasts, squeezing and rolling her nipples between his fingers. She shifted her hips and angled them toward his thrusting cock. The head pressed against her entrance, paused for the briefest of moments, just long enough for her hips to jerk urgently. Then with agonizing slowness, he pushed inside her. Inch by inch. He was so big and so hard, she thought she would die from wanting him. She tightened her legs around his hips, wanting to hold him there and never let him go. Her core was pulsing with sensation, already spiraling with tension. Then he began to move, to thrust and pull back, and she was swept up in the rocking rhythm and the desperate need to feel him in her and against her and all around her.
    “So tight. So hot. So wet.” He grabbed her hips and pulled her in closer, the words coming out in grunts as he pushed hard.
    She met him with hard thrusts of her own, slamming into him, trying to merge flesh with flesh. The musky smell of their juices and the slap of skin on skin filled her senses. His face was close, their eyes locked. She kissed him, hot and hard and fierce, then her eyes began to glaze as she climbed higher and higher. Every muscle in her body was rigid, every cell in her being striving for that one great explosion.
    “Almost there,” she said, panting. Abruptly he changed rhythm, grinding in a circular motion and she almost screamed with frustration and need. “Don’t do that to me, Scott.”
    “You love what I’m doing to you.”
    He was right. The new motion had stepped up the tension another notch. He was moving for both of them now. She was gripped in sensation and lust and desire and need and had no control over where they were going. Usually, she was in charge in bed. Not with Scott. He was taking her somewhere only he knew and she was clinging to his shoulders and hips and hoping she would still be in one piece when it was all over.
    And then he gave one last almighty thrust and went rigid. At the same instant, her whole body went supernova and the shattered remains of her went spinning off in all directions.
    She didn’t know how long she drifted, awash in the warmth and afterglow. Gradually, she became aware of Scott still inside her and her arms and legs wrapped around him, of his warm weight pressing her into the mattress. She was