Vixen.
“I can’t decide,” she murmured, “if I want to sit forward or backward when I ride you.”
In a couple of swift moves he’d folded her into his arms and rolled her over onto her stomach and pulled her upward onto her knees.
“I decided for you.”
He dragged his hands along her spine, tracing the lyrical curve of her with his hands, her torso, the nip of her waist, the swell of her hips, so like a guitar. He dragged his palm over the satin coolness of her ass and pulled her closer into him.
Then eased into the slick, satiny wetness. And withdrew.
And thrust again, teasing both of them.
She moaned softly, a low keening sound of pleasure. “Eli...”
How many of his dreams had included her moaning his name?
Suddenly it seemed all of his dreams had. He couldn’t imagine wasting all that precious time thinking of anything else.
He moved again, teasing her cleft, and she made a sound that was nearly a growl of pleasure.
It went to his head like a belt of Everclear. Every cell in his body was electrified.
He moved again and again, almost languid, but pleasure had claws and they were sinking in deeper and deeper.
He watched her crimson nails curl into the white fur of the throw, and her black hair whipped like a storm cloud as her head thrashed.
Her body swayed with her swift breathing. “Eli... sogood...”
He could hear the roar of his breath and hers, and feel the sweat beading on his body as he slid inch by slow inch in again, savoring the hot, silken cling of her, and she arched upward to meet him.
And again.
She writhed as pleasure surged and built in her, and her pleasure rippled through him, and then the madness won out over control and he let go.
His hips drummed swiftly as he gripped her, pulling her into him to take her deeply. The primal smack of their bodies and the tattered roar of their breathing and the moans ripped from each of them were all of a piece; all of it made them wilder still. And then her body arced upward and he heard his name in a hoarse cry, as if from a distance, as pleasure all but tore him from his body and cast him like stardust into the ether.
They collapsed together, brainless and boneless, sated and sweaty, sex-drunk and peaceful.
She sighed and he wrapped his arms around her, and she flung a leg over the top of him, and he cupped the back of her head, and they both fell asleep as hard as if they’d killed each other.
He woke up when his leg was asleep and they were both chilly, and they communicated in murmurs and grunts like forest creatures, and got under the covers, claimed separate pillows, entwined their limbs, and then slept a dreamless sleep, because all their dreams had just come true.
Chapter21
It was the silence that woke him up. The rain had come down pretty hard all night, and the sound of it, and Glory’s breathing, had been like a lullaby.
He reached over and the sheets were still warm. He smiled with manly satisfaction and peered out his bedroom’s French doors.
She’d pulled the throw from his bed, wrapped herself in it like a coronation cape and trailed it out.
She was on the back deck, head tipped up, looking out at the dawn. No color in the sky yet. Just a sort of shimmering silver on the edge of the canyon.
She didn’t turn around, but she knew he was there.
“That’sabout what color your eyes are.”
As if it was a question that had haunted her for ages. He supposed she meant the gray of the dawn sky.