Into the Fire (First Responders 3)

God, he was still stunningly beautiful. His chest was wide and muscled from physical labor, and Ally pressed her lips against his collarbone. There was a sharp intake of breath as she slid her tongue over his slightly salty skin and teased the hard, pebbled nipple. A rough sound issued from his throat and she smiled against him, kissing her way to the other side.

“Ally,” he said, his voice not quite as stable as it had been only moments before.

She didn’t answer. Just slid the shirt over his shoulders and then moved her hands to the leather belt at his waist.

She wanted to slow it down, make it last, so she took her time unbuckling the belt, then turning the button from its hole and sliding the zipper, tooth by tooth, to the bottom. She slid her hands inside the trousers, cupping his bottom with her hands, pulling him against her. Was there any inch of him that wasn’t toned and hard? As his hips touched her pelvis, she realized there wasn’t.

She slid her hand around to the front of his shorts and cupped him, loving how he seemed to surge against her touch. She rubbed through the fabric until his breathing labored against h

er ear. He slid his hand from her arm down over her ribs, and then back up to cup her breast. The tip hardened beneath his touch, pressing itself into his palm. He wasn’t the only one ready and willing.

“As much as I enjoy the idea of doing this standing up,” he murmured, trailing kisses against her jaw, “I think we can do it better justice by being horizontal.”

There was no doubt now, was there? They were going to do this. There would be no turning back, and she was so hot and ready she was past caring. She wanted him with a burning heat that she’d only felt with one man—only with him.

“I think so too.”

She expected him to lead her down the hall to his room. What she didn’t expect was for him to sweep an arm beneath her knees and pick her up as if she weighed nothing at all. Her cheek was against his and her palm rested against the smooth warmth of his chest. His feet made shushing sounds against the unfinished floor of the hall, and he nudged his bedroom door open with his foot.

When they were inside, he used the same foot to swing it closed again.

The bed was neatly made, a plush duvet on the top. He laid her down gently, braced his hands on either side of her shoulders and pressed her into the mattress with his body. Horizontal now, he began kissing her again while grinding against her pelvis. Desire pounded through her as she gyrated in sync with him, mimicking what was to come. His hand pushed up her sweater and he bit her nipple lightly through her bra, making her cry out at the stinging arousal of it.

“Lift your arms,” he commanded, stopping a moment to sit astride her hips.

She obeyed and he pulled the sweater over her head. He reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, pulled the straps down her arms. Her nipples, already hard, reacted to the cold air and the heat of his gaze and puckered almost painfully.

The moment he touched his tongue to the first tip, a dart of something deliciously dark shot to her core. She squirmed against him, seeking something—fulfillment, not release. It wasn’t time for that yet, but her body knew what was coming and was growing impatient.

When he’d suckled and teased until she could hardly stand it, he slid off the bed and finished removing his trousers and shorts. She drank in the sight of him and held his gaze as she reached for the button of her jeans. A fire seemed to light behind his irises and he moved in to help. She lifted her hips while he slid the denim over her hips and down her legs.

She was infinitely glad she’d decided on the delicate plum-colored bikini panties today, given the hungry look in Chris’s eyes. He cupped his hand against her heat and she moaned, throwing her head back. In one swift movement, the panties joined her jeans on the floor.

Chris reached over and pulled out the top drawer of his nightstand, taking out a condom. He ripped it open and, kneeling on the bed, sheathed himself.

“You were prepared,” she whispered. Impatient from waiting, she ran her fingers down the soft skin of her belly, arching up.

“After that night on the couch…” He knelt above her. “I knew it was a matter of when, not if.” His fiery blue gaze caught hers. “And I would protect you, Ally. Always.”

Something changed. Something caught and shifted inside her, something big and wonderful and terrifying. Swallowing against the sudden lump in her throat, she reached down and clasped him in her hand, guiding him home.

He slid all the way in, and for the space of a heartbeat, he held, his gaze locked with hers. In that fleeting second, Ally knew with all certainty that she still loved him. Perhaps more than she’d loved him back then. She loved the man he’d become. She loved the way he made her feel. There was something between them that had survived how they’d ended, and now flared to life as their bodies joined.

And as he began moving, Ally felt indestructible.

Nothing had prepared Chris for the experience of having Ally shatter beneath him, of being sheathed inside her as her muscles contracted and she called out his name. He felt ten feet tall and humbled all at once. And very, very close to his own climax.

Her fingers released their hold on his bottom and her face glowed with the smallest sheen of sweat. God, she was gorgeous. He set up his rhythm again, watching the way her breasts moved with each thrust, adoring the dazed look in her blue eyes as her lashes fluttered open.

“Your turn,” she said, a sexy smile curving her lips. And she ran her foot up his calf, along the back of his thigh, and then hooked it around his waist, levering herself up as he impaled her again and again.

He was losing his tenuous thread of control and he gloried in it. Fastening his mouth on her breast he heard her gasp as she twined her fingers into his hair.

And then he ceased to think at all, giving himself over to her completely until he came with a mighty roar of satisfaction.

Ally felt boneless. At some point they’d crawled beneath the duvet, completely naked, and fallen asleep. The late afternoon sun was weakening, casting shadows in the corner of the room. She stretched, enjoying the sensation of her skin sliding along Chris’s sheets. He was on his side facing her, eyes closed, breath even.

Naked, like her.