“Lose the boots, Rachel.”
She had to step back to toe them off, but he took her hips and pulled her close when only one was off. Going to his knees, he laid kisses along the bare skin of her belly and whispered, “Too slow. Taking too long.”
With efficient care, he removed the other boot, then stripped her out of her jeans in seconds. Then he sat back on his heels and took her in, letting his gaze rove over her in a leisurely manner.
Rachel reached for him, but he gently pushed her back against the cold door and held her there. “Let me look.”
“Isaac.” She didn’t care if she sounded needy. Hell, shewas. He could look later. Right now, she wanted him, needed to feel his skin against hers. She pulled at him again, and this time he came to her in a rush, surging to his feet and pressing his full length against her.
Hooking his arms behind her knees, he lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist and he could pin her to the door with his hips.
Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck, as well, letting her head fall back against the door as he nipped her jaw, her ear, her neck, her collarbone. The heat of his mouth seared her skin, and she reveled in the burn. Hungered for more. Wanted him to possess her body and use it as he would.
She ground against his cock, riding the length of him, his jeans abrading her tender flesh through the satin of her underwear. Friction brought her close, and she whimpered, trying to ride harder, faster, to hit the right spot that would send her over the edge, but he shifted and denied her.
An animalistic snarl left her, a noise she didn’t recognize, as her body demanded more from him.
“Patience,” he rasped.
“Screw that,” she bit out, pushing her hips down against his. “Don’t make me wait, Isaac.”
“Rachel.” Her name from his lips issued against the skin on her neck.
She gripped his hair and pulled his head back until their eyes met. “Love me, Isaac.”
“Rachel,” he said again, a strange note of concern creeping in.
She realized what she’d said and tried not to panic at the request. Instead, she clarified. “Love my body, Isaac.” Lowering her face to his, she watched him fight to control his breathing as his nostrils flared and his chest heaved. “Take me here. Now. Command my body and make it your instrument of pleasure. Please.”
Those words proved to be his undoing. He surged against the door, his hips grinding into hers with delicious force as he let go of one of her hips to fumble with his jeans. She shoved away his hand and undid his belt for him, letting him work the button free, and then pushed at his jeans and boxers with her hands until she could get them hooked on a heel and shove them down to his knees. His cock sprang free, and she groaned at the feel of his scalding heat against her sex.
“Condom,” Isaac muttered.
“Let me.”
She took the condom he’d pulled from his pocket, ripped it open and slipped it down his length as she shook under her ministrations.
Sheathed, he pulled her back into his embrace, ripped off her underwear with a sharp jerk and, burying his face in her neck, thrust his hips up and forward, filling her in one stroke.
She cried out and he froze until she tightened her arms around his shoulders and began to move. “Not hurt,” she gasped. “Fuck me, Isaac. Please. Please. Please,” she begged as she fought to move, pinned as she was between him and the door.
He must’ve heard her through the haze of lust. Shifting, he rapidly established a deep plunge-and-retreat rhythm that dragged the root of his cock over her clitoris with every stroke. This—he—was wild, and she gave as well as she took. Rachel scored his back with her nails as she fought to hold on, to hold out, until there were no options left but to come apart in his arms.
He reached between them, found her clitoris and pressed her with his thumb at the same time he drove deep into her.
The effect was cataclysmic.
Rachel shattered, crying out as she rode Isaac as hard and fast as she could, aware of nothing but the raging sensations that ripped through her body. She was left shaking and limp as they receded and only the aftershocks rocking her internal muscles remained.
He pressed her back against the door and shook as he rode out his own orgasm in silence, his thrusts growing erratic until he stilled and only the sound of their heavy breathing filled the air.
Rachel laid her head on Isaac’s shoulder. She was limp as a rag doll but sure in the knowledge that he wouldn’t allow her to fall.
And he didn’t.
But there was more than one way to fall, and Rachel had a sinking feeling she’d taken the first major step toward falling for Isaac in a way he wouldn’t be able to save her from. And probably wouldn’t want to. But that was the thing about falling.
Once someone truly began to fall, stopping that forward momentum was nearly impossible.