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Authors: Catherine Mann
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her, too. She rocked against the hard length of him, searching, aching for release.
Matthew tore his mouth from hers and nipped along her jaw until he reached her ear where he buried his face in her hair, his five-o’clock shadow gently abrading her skin. Her eyes adjusting to the dark, she could see the straining tendons in his neck. His breath flamed over her in hot bursts.
“Ashley, we need to slow this down a notch if I’m going to make it to the bedroom, or at least to the sofa.”
She didn’t want to stop, even for the short stretch of hardwood it would take to reach the leather couch a few feet away in the moonlit living room. “Why move then? As long as you’ve got protection in your pocket, I’m more than happy with right here, right now.”
His low growl of approval sent a shiver of excitement up her spine.
He tugged his wallet free. “I’ve been carrying protection since that first night with you. I knew full well the chemistry between us could combust again without warning.”
Matthew plucked out a condom and pitched his wallet over his shoulder. The thud of leather against wood snapped what little restraint she had left.
In a flurry of motion she barely registered since he’d started kissing her again, she grappled with his belt while he bunched the hem of her clingy cream dress in his fists, higher, higher still until he reached her waist. With one impatient hand he gripped the thin scrap of her satin panties—and how she delighted in the fact that when she’d shopped for underwear, she hadn’t selected so much as a single piece of practical cotton.
She managed to open his fly and encircle him with a languorous glide of her fingers along his hot hard arousal. His jaw flexed. His grip twisted on her panties until they…snapped.
Cool air swooshed along her overheated flesh in an excruciating contrast. “Now,” she gasped against his mouth. “To hell with foreplay.”
“If you insist,” he groaned between gritted teeth.
She couldn’t resist watching every intimate detail as he rolled the sheathe into place. Matthew hitched an arm under her bottom and lifted her against the door until the heat of him nudged perfectly between her legs. Inch by delicious inch, he lowered her as he filled her. She hooked her legs around his waist and pressed him the rest of the way home.
Tremors began quaking through her before he even moved and she realized their every touch in the days prior had been foreplay leading to this. He eased away. Then thrust into her with a thick abandon that sent her over the edge without warning.
Her head flung back against the door as she cried out with each wave cresting through her. Her heels dug deeper into his buttocks. Matthew moved faster, taking the waves higher. His shout of completion spurred a final wash of pleasure, and her body went limp.
They stood locked together silently for…well, she wasn’t sure how long. Then he released her and her feet slid to the floor.
She started to sag, her muscles too weak with satisfaction to hold her, and he scooped her into his arms.
“I’ve got you, Ashley. Just relax.”
She hummed her approval against his chest. She would figure out how to talk again later.
On his way through the small foyer, he paused for her to flick one of the light switches, bathing the room in a low glow. As he strode into the living room, she lounged sated against his chest and took a moment to learn more about Matthew from his surroundings. Deep burgundy leather chairs and a sofa filled the airy room, angled for a perfect view of both the ocean and the widescreened television. Striped wool hooked rugs scattered along tile into an open-area dining room and high-tech kitchen.
And dead center across the room—a narrow hallway that undoubtedly led to the bedrooms.
He stopped beside the sofa. “Do you want to stay here or head back there?”
“There, please.” She wanted to learn more about him beyond his political standings, affinity for
Matthew tore his mouth from hers and nipped along her jaw until he reached her ear where he buried his face in her hair, his five-o’clock shadow gently abrading her skin. Her eyes adjusting to the dark, she could see the straining tendons in his neck. His breath flamed over her in hot bursts.
“Ashley, we need to slow this down a notch if I’m going to make it to the bedroom, or at least to the sofa.”
She didn’t want to stop, even for the short stretch of hardwood it would take to reach the leather couch a few feet away in the moonlit living room. “Why move then? As long as you’ve got protection in your pocket, I’m more than happy with right here, right now.”
His low growl of approval sent a shiver of excitement up her spine.
He tugged his wallet free. “I’ve been carrying protection since that first night with you. I knew full well the chemistry between us could combust again without warning.”
Matthew plucked out a condom and pitched his wallet over his shoulder. The thud of leather against wood snapped what little restraint she had left.
In a flurry of motion she barely registered since he’d started kissing her again, she grappled with his belt while he bunched the hem of her clingy cream dress in his fists, higher, higher still until he reached her waist. With one impatient hand he gripped the thin scrap of her satin panties—and how she delighted in the fact that when she’d shopped for underwear, she hadn’t selected so much as a single piece of practical cotton.
She managed to open his fly and encircle him with a languorous glide of her fingers along his hot hard arousal. His jaw flexed. His grip twisted on her panties until they…snapped.
Cool air swooshed along her overheated flesh in an excruciating contrast. “Now,” she gasped against his mouth. “To hell with foreplay.”
“If you insist,” he groaned between gritted teeth.
She couldn’t resist watching every intimate detail as he rolled the sheathe into place. Matthew hitched an arm under her bottom and lifted her against the door until the heat of him nudged perfectly between her legs. Inch by delicious inch, he lowered her as he filled her. She hooked her legs around his waist and pressed him the rest of the way home.
Tremors began quaking through her before he even moved and she realized their every touch in the days prior had been foreplay leading to this. He eased away. Then thrust into her with a thick abandon that sent her over the edge without warning.
Her head flung back against the door as she cried out with each wave cresting through her. Her heels dug deeper into his buttocks. Matthew moved faster, taking the waves higher. His shout of completion spurred a final wash of pleasure, and her body went limp.
They stood locked together silently for…well, she wasn’t sure how long. Then he released her and her feet slid to the floor.
She started to sag, her muscles too weak with satisfaction to hold her, and he scooped her into his arms.
“I’ve got you, Ashley. Just relax.”
She hummed her approval against his chest. She would figure out how to talk again later.
On his way through the small foyer, he paused for her to flick one of the light switches, bathing the room in a low glow. As he strode into the living room, she lounged sated against his chest and took a moment to learn more about Matthew from his surroundings. Deep burgundy leather chairs and a sofa filled the airy room, angled for a perfect view of both the ocean and the widescreened television. Striped wool hooked rugs scattered along tile into an open-area dining room and high-tech kitchen.
And dead center across the room—a narrow hallway that undoubtedly led to the bedrooms.
He stopped beside the sofa. “Do you want to stay here or head back there?”
“There, please.” She wanted to learn more about him beyond his political standings, affinity for
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