Priceless

Priceless by Sherryl Woods Page B

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Authors: Sherryl Woods
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ragged.
    “No, now,” she said, the urgency of her need stunning her as it must be shocking him. She wanted to forget the world and this was the way, the only way. She was already tugging at the buckle of his belt, fumbling for his zipper. She didn’t want time to think, time to reconsider, not so much as a second to wonder if this was an act of desperation she would live to regret.
    Mack caught her frenzy. Buttons flew as he pushed aside her blouse, then caught the peak of her breast in his mouth, sucking, using lips, tongue and teeth until she was writhing against him, certain that she would fly apart from that touch alone.
    With a clever flick, her bra disappeared and then her skirt was hiked up to her waist, her panties stripped away. His fingers found her moist heat and dove inside, making her cry out with the sheer wonder of it as wave after wave of pulsing pleasure washed over her.
    That quick, violent release should have been enough to slake the need, but she wanted more, so much more. She tugged at the zipper she’d forgotten in the swirl of wild sensations he’d stirred in her. There was something wild and totally uninhibited in control of her now, a need so great, so demanding that she couldn’t have turned away from it even if the thought had crossed her mind. Not that it did. Stopping wasn’t an option.
    She looked deep into Mack’s eyes and saw the answering hunger, the same desperate need even as he rolled on a condom, then lifted her and drove himself into her, filling her, taking her right here, right now with her back pressed against the kitchen wall, her legswrapped tightly around him as he thrust into her. Her last conscious thought was that she was just beginning to fully appreciate the advantages of a man with the well-toned body and strength of an athlete.
    Sensations ripped through her—the cool hardness of the wall at her back, Mack’s rough breathing in her ear, the slick slip-slide of him inside her, the rigid tension of his muscles where she clung to him, the scent of aftershave and sex. It was all so sweet, so powerful, so amazing…and shocking in its unexpected intensity.
    When the hard, throbbing waves of a second release finally crashed over her, Beth felt as weak as if she’d been thrown on shore after a storm at sea. But she was exhilarated, too, as if she’d had one exquisite chance to touch the sky.
    Slowly, oh, so slowly, she fought her way back to earth, back to the here and now, back to her own kitchen, which would never, ever feel the same again. There were clothes strewn everywhere, a plate had somehow ended up on the floor, a glass of tea had toppled over leaving melting ice cubes sitting in puddles on the table.
    Before she realized his intention, Mack reached for one of the cubes of ice and lightly swirled it across the tip of her breast, then lower, his clever mouth following the same intimate path. The shock of cold, the heat of Mack against her still-sensitive skin sent her off into another totally unexpected whirl of mind-blowing sensation. Shattered, all she could do was cling to him and let the ride take her where it would.
    Afterward, she struggled with embarrassment, looking everywhere except at Mack until he touched a finger to her chin and forced her to meet his gaze.
    “You know, Doc, if I’d just hit that many highs with anyone else, I’d worry about dying on the spot.”
    Relieved by the flash of humor in his eyes, she said, “But not with me?”
    “Nope. I figure you know CPR and you’d be highly motivated to save me so we can do this again.”
    Her lips curved at the purely male arrogance of the suggestion. “Again?”
    “Definitely again.” He grinned sheepishly as he tugged up the briefs and pants pooled at his ankles. “Maybe not in the next ten minutes,” he conceded, “but most definitely again.”
    Her own grin spread, along with a heady dose of feminine satisfaction. “In that case, maybe I’d better tell you where the bedroom is,

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