Jane Millionaire

“Say it,” she whispered, moving sensuously against him, making his blood throb through his body.

“I’m going to make love to you, Jill, and I’m going to thrust into you until you scream my name over and over in ecstasy.”

She smiled. The smile of a woman who knew she was going to be thoroughly satisfied before the sun rose. He scooped her into his arms.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He lowered her onto his king-sized bed, gently, reverently, with shaking arms and burning desire. Need to possess her urged him to strip her panties and sink inside, but he restrained himself. They had all night, right? He wanted to make this last, to feel her orgasm time and again. Not take her like a seventeen-year-old novice only out for his own satisfaction. But hell, if he didn’t feel like a seventeen-year-old about to experience sex for the first time. He had to get control of his body and quick. One…wait, he’d already tried counting, twice, and it hadn’t worked either time.

“No one’s ever done that before.” Her eyes shined as she gazed up at him.

“What? Carried you to bed?” He ran his fingers down her face, wondering if a more beautiful woman had ever lived. Her thick lashes swept across her cheeks. A soft whimper escaped her lips.

Something unrecognized, protective, probably unwanted, moved within him, but now wasn’t the time for analyzing the rampant feelings she elicited within him.

“They should have. You deserve to be swept off your feet, Ja-ill.”

Her hand grasped his, and she tugged him to her. She rained blistering kisses over his chest. Surely, if he looked, his skin would be scorched, branded by her hot mouth.

“I want you. Inside me. Now.”

His abdominal muscles clenched in response to her demand. Oh yeah. He wanted that, too. So desperately and for so long that the intensity of his desire to possess this one woman almost scared him witless.

“Yes.” He stretched out next to her on the hand-sewn quilt, greedily stroking the creamy flesh of her breasts.

“Yes,” he repeated, his hands roaming her, touching, molding, seeking. “Again and again until you can’t see straight.”

“Prove it,” she softly challenged, rotating her hips against his throbbing manhood.

He’d been trying to slow things down, to be patient. To hell with slow. And since when had he ever been patient? Deep and hard. That’s what this situation called for. Fast and furious. His man to her woman. He wouldn’t wait another second.

He hooked her panties with his thumbs and slid them down her long, long toned legs. She didn’t move except to lift her hips and watch him gawk like a schoolboy at her amazing body. Could she see the awe he felt? The fire in him to seize her perfection?

He kissed her breasts, her stomach, the trim triangle of chestnut curls, lower. She squirmed, undulating against his mouth, her fists clasping and unclasping the folds of the quilt as he flicked his tongue across her sweet nub.

Roses. Sweet, sweet rose petals. Rose petals that fed a starving man’s obsession.

“Rob. Oh, Rob,” she cried, her head tossed back and forth in rhythm with the motions of his mouth as he pushed her closer and closer. Her spine bowed, and he knew she was almost there. “Rob, please, oh, please.”

Her frantic pants were nearly driving him crazy with the need to thrust into her slick heat. But he wanted to make her come this way first. To taste and feel her response to his touch. To know she was as needy for him as he was for her. More.

“Rob, I can’t stand anymore. Please. Please come inside me,” she begged, her voice raspy with ardor. “Now. Take me, now.”

Almost. She was almost where he wanted. But not yet. Not until she lost control would he mount her, fill her with his rock hard length, to complete them as one being.

“Rob.” Her voice was becoming more and more urgent. Desperate. Her back arched, her legs tensed, her abdomen contracted. “OhmyGodohmyGod!”

Now. Continuing his gentle sucks and tongue flicks, he slid his finger deep into her hot dampness. She convulsed around him, grabbing his shoulders like she held on for dear life. Her fingernails dug in as she cried out, her orgasm hitting them both full force.

“Oh my God. I’ve never. Not like that. Oh, Rob. Oh. My. God.” She sounded like she’d just run the hundred-yard dash--and won.

But she couldn’t have because he’d won whatever race had just taken place. Won the prize of her wild release. Damn, but he felt smug in the knowledge of her words, of her powerful response. Smug and victorious.

Oh hell. He was about to come.

Think cold shower. Think pain. Think taxes.

Think it’s time to put a condom on.