He pulled her hat off her head and tossed it onto the floor, freeing the long curls from confinement. She yanked her glasses off and then she was back, kissing him again.
Undressing him.
She pulled his shirt up and over his head. Lowered his jeans and briefs around his ankles, leaving him long enough to grab a condom from his wallet, step out of one pant leg, then the other before she plastered herself against him once more. But it wasn’t enough for Mike.
He needed to feel her heat, her warmth. He pulled her T-shirt up for skin-to-skin contact and realized she wasn’t wearing a bra.
He gazed appreciatively at her full breasts and darkened nipples before he yanked her against him with one hand. Flesh against flesh, heat seared him.
His groin pulsed between them, throbbing against her stomach. “Do you feel what you do to me?” he asked gruffly.
She grazed the head of his shaft, liquid coating her fingertips. She grinned. “Yeah, I feel it.” She tipped her head back and met his gaze, wickedness burning in hers. “Now it’s your turn.” Her hands shook as she unbuttoned her jeans and quickly peeled them off along with her lacy underwear.
God, she was gorgeous.
“Feel what you do to me,” she ordered.
He slid one finger into her warm, feminine heat, finding her slick and wet. Ready for him.
He reached behind him and turned the lock on the front door, assuring them nobody would walk in. “You sure you want to do this here and now? Isn’t it disrespectful?” he asked, only partially teasing.
She’d felt that way before and if he took one more step, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
She pushed him against the wall and practically climbed him to get closer. “That was then. Edward was around the house somewhere. This is now. And trust me, if Clara actually managed to get him out, she won’t bring him back for hours.” Amber treated him to a warm, wet, lingering, seductive kiss. “Are you sure you want to keep talking?” she asked.
Everything in him screamed for release. “Talking’s overrated.” He picked her up and carried her to the nearest couch, only to find it too narrow.
Amber laughed, the sound cushioning his heart in warmth. “At this point the floor works,” she said, panting with desire.
He lowered himself onto his back, shielding her from the hard surface. He took care of protection, then held out his hand.
She took it.
Amber lowered herself over him, positioning her thighs over his until her feminine cleft sat poised over him. Her eyes never leaving his, she slid home.
Inch by sweet, delectable inch, she enveloped him in wet heat until he couldn’t think. He thought he groaned out loud, but he couldn’t be sure, so hard was the blood rushing through his head, his ears.
And then she squeezed, contracting her internal muscles, pulling him into her very essence and he couldn’t control the wave of emotion filling his body, his mind, his heart.
If only everything between them was this perfect, Mike thought.
And then she began to move, and rational thought fled with the silky-smooth viselike grip her body had on his. He cupped her breasts in his hands as she rode him, up and down, fast, seeking release. He was damn close himself.
But suddenly he didn’t want it fast. He wanted to savor it and her. In case this was the last time.
Shaking off that thought, he bent his knees slightly, slowing her tempo. Her eyes opened wide and as she met his eyes, she must have read his mind.
Because as he slowly lowered his legs, she eased her rhythm. Changed it slightly. Slid down, milking him hard, then up again, pulling his shaft with her. She came down again, leaning forward as she did so, joining their bodies more firmly, intimately.
A soft sigh escaped her lips. “I like this,” she murmured, rocking against him before sliding up again.
Down, rock forward, back up.
Down, rock forward, back up.
Until her inner walls began to contract on their own, building everything inside him to an intense crescendo. Higher, higher, until she exploded around him, inside him, through him.
She’d taken him on the slowest, sweetest, most heart-stopping ride of his life.