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His grin blinked on. “Yeah, honey. Touch me.”
And she did, not because she had his permission, but because it was what she needed, what she craved. She slid her hands over his high buttocks, down the back of his muscled thighs, around the front so that she could play between his legs and make him groan again. With every inch of skin she explored, with every new place she discovered, she went wilder herself, her blood burning under the surface of her flesh, her nipples hard beneath her bra, the place between her thighs clenching in anticipation of more.
Then she rolled her palm up his erection and the tide changed. His body tensed, his breath huffed out, his fingers tightened on her upper arms. He yanked her close, somehow dispensing with her bra before their chests met.
She moaned.
He sucked the sound away with his mouth, and then it was everywhere, on her cheek, her chin, running down her neck to nip at the curve of her shoulder. At the bite, her passion exploded.
Whether Noah sensed it or his own desires were driving him, she didn’t know. And she didn’t have the breath to ask because they went from upright to horizontal with one beat of her heart. Her yoga pants and bikini panties had melted from her body. Somehow he’d put on a condom. Noah made a place for himself between her legs, jerking her thighs apart and muscling his hips into the opening without the tender finesse of their last time together.
There was nothing of finesse now.
He entered her in one heavy stroke, but it wasn’t enough, and she jerked her pelvis high to impale him farther. He grunted, reared back, and then invaded again.
Merciless, sweet invasion.
He started a ruthless rhythm, one she would have demanded had she known such perfection existed. Her hands crabbed for purchase against the soft area rug, digging in as he continued to fill her. Without breaking the tempo, he rested more heavily on his knees and caught the back of hers in his big hands. He pushed them into her chest, holding her open for him. Vulnerable and open.
Impassioned and liberated.
She bit her bottom lip to keep back her pleas. She didn’t want to interrupt a moment of his rough possession of her. She didn’t want anything to mar this proof that she, Juliet Weston, had driven a man to such abandon.
And then he abandoned her.
“What? No?” she cried out, but her voice turned into a strangled sob as he placed his mouth against her wet, swollen flesh.
“I have to go down on you,” he muttered, his gaze flicking up to her face and his breath burned hotter against her than even the melting center of her body. “I have to have this.”
And he had it, took it, licking, sucking, exploring with his tongue, finding another rhythm that made her mad with need. She was moaning, begging, surrendering to him with all that she had when he took pity. Lashing her clitoris with his tongue, he slid two big fingers inside her.
Her hips lifted, her body quaked, she couldn’t find breath to let out the scream of delirious pleasure.
The next one was silent, too, because he didn’t give her a chance to descend or even inhale before he replaced his fingers with his body. He had to force past her still-clenching muscles, but that was good, too, necessary, so she’d know that such ecstasy was real.
One thrust, two, and he went over, then made her tumble after by inserting his clever hand between them.
Minutes passed. His head was still buried against her neck when she felt his mouth move on her damp skin. “I don’t dare ask you if I broke anything.”
Juliet slid her hand up his back. “Just a few of my notions about myself.”
He looked up, that killer smile tugging at his beautiful lips. “Sounds promising.”
She’d been wanton—and that wasn’t a bad thing. She’d been demanding—and that was just as thrilling, too. “I don’t think I have to paint a picture, do I?”
“If you do, I’ll be the first in line to make a purchase.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “That was pretty spectacular for me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Her eyes drifted closed and she wondered how long she would continue throbbing. There was a sweet, pulsing ache at the place where she’d been opened by him. The point where he’d bit her neck seemed to have its own heartbeat.
Her hand drifted over his back again. “Did you really want me like…like this before now? When…”
“When the general was alive?”
She nodded.
Still half-hard, he pushed into her again. “Since the first moment I saw you. Is that a problem?”
It boggled the mind a bit to think he’d felt desire when she was running out the door yelling like a banshee, but they said young men had sex on the brain just about all of the time. “It’s not a problem.”
