Melt by Natalie Anderson Page A

around his waist.
    “I’ve had fantasies about these bunks,” he groaned.
    “I can tell.” She gasped for breath, stunned at his strength.
    “Emma.”
    She met his eyes—his glittering, deep eyes.
    Growling through clenched teeth, he gripped her hard as his flesh parted hers. His breath hissed, and his fingers tightened to the point of pain.
    But she was in too much ecstasy to care. Her head thrown back, she half gasped, half groaned, almost cried as so slowly he filled her. So good. So deliciously slow and full and fabulous and almost everything she’d ever wanted.
    Wholly sheathed inside her, he held still. Emma hovered unbearably on the edge. Their rapid, harsh breathing mingled. She couldn’t believe it could be this good. That she could feel this hot.
    “Please. Please move.” She couldn’t, trapped between the bunk and him, her hands clasped tightly over his shoulders. All she could move were the muscles deep inside her—tight and lax, tight and lax—again and again.
    His response was to kiss her—thoroughly—while he held torturously still.
    “Hard,” she mumbled breathlessly beneath his plundering mouth. “I want it hard.” She wanted it bad. And she wanted it now.
    But he wouldn’t be rushed. He lifted his head back to watch her face as he pulled out again—almost all the way, before slowly pressing back deep inside.
    “Please.” She shook her head side to side in desperation as she went one notch nearer oblivion. “Please.”
    He moved one hand, fingers slipping to the front, between them, and tormented her. She rocked—any which way she could—trying to flex her hips to make him ravish her. His hand lifted, palming her breast with a sure caress before grasping her butt with one hand again in a strong, possessive hold, the other grasping the edge of the top bunk rail for leverage, and then he moved, grinding closer. She gasped as he deepened his actions, then finally, thankfully, he quickened them.
    “Hunter.” She curled her arms around him, pressing her mouth to his damp shoulder as he took almost all her weight. “I knew…but I didn’t know.”
    She didn’t know it could ever be as good as this.
    His head tipped back as he thrust harder. “I know.”
    Words ceased, just heavy breathing and harsh moans as their bodies reveled in the pleasure. They pushed, frantic need driving their rhythm.
    His skin was slick. All over she too was damp as he made her body work. She pressed forward, panting, rubbing her breasts against his chest. The pleasure was too intense. Higher and higher he pushed her, as harder and harder he drove into her. Faster. His kisses deepened to rough and hungry to match the movement of his hips. The pressure he put on her from his ministrations was so immense—she had to shatter.
    Her whole body, mind, spirit locked for an infinite moment of eternity. Frozen in shock, she gazed at him in that split second before the ecstasy he’d wreaked broke over her. The intensity wrought a scream from deep within that tore through her throat.
    His mouth crashed down, his lips crushing hers, muffling her shriek. Her body shuddered uncontrollably, compulsively contracting as wave upon wave of unutterable delight slammed through her.
    He demanded more—still surging powerfully against her until with a fierce, quick movement, he arched back, pulling all of her weight onto him, as his release blasted out.
    She gasped for long minutes. Unable to get her breath back or slow her heart. So close to fainting. He cradled her, demonstrating his immense strength again as he lifted her onto the bunk and then came to curl around her.
    “Wow,” Emma said, simply unable to think of another word.
    He chuckled and swept his hand across her breast. “So tell me what you want me to do now.”
    “Now?” she repeated. “Already?”
    “Uh huh.” He knelt above her, stroking her limbs with light, tormenting fingers. “Can’t you think of anything?” he teased.
    No, she couldn’t. Not when