He worked the third finger in anyway, because what came next was a hell of a lot more than three fingers. “I want to make sure you’re ready. Otherwise, when this is all over, you’ll be cursing me for the next week.”
“I’ve been cursing you for the last two. What’s one more?”
There it went. The end of his rope. He pushed her down until her forearms rested on the surface of her workstation. “Hold on, sweet Virginia, we’re about to find out.” With that, he drove into her. In some detached, disassociated part of his mind, he heard her cry out…first a high-pitched gasp, which slowly tumbled into a long, soul-deep groan.
Experience told him to stay still and let her adjust. Keep his hand cupped to her body, stroke her so she moved against him, pushing back as he pushed forward, finding a pace she liked. Basically, hold himself in check until she’d worked herself into a frenzy. But tonight the voice of need overrode the voice of experience, and demanded more. More. Deeper. Harder. Faster. He pumped his hips in an insatiable, instinctive urge to find what his body craved. Blood rushed in his ears. His heartbeat thundered in his chest. Tremors started somewhere around his calves and worked their way up.
Virginia clamped around him like a fist, over, and over, and over again, and called his name. And still it wasn’t enough. Not for him.
“I need more of you…all of you,” he ground out.
She raised her head, looked in the mirror, and her frantic gaze crashed into him “Please, please, please Shaun…I have to come now. I don’t care what you do, or how you do it. Just…fucking…do it.”
Chapter Four
From somewhere over the runaway train of blood pumping in her ears, Ginny heard herself calling Shaun’s name. More than once, and fairly desperately. Pride goeth before the fall. But hell’s bells, she hadn’t been prepared for this fall.
Okay, yes, she’d had sex—maybe more than her fair share—for the fun of it, or to relieve the boredom of another predictable Bluelick Friday night, or for the ego-validation of the conquest. Sometimes playful, sometimes sweet, sometimes purely physical, but never anything like this. Shaun’s urgency made her feel as necessary as a heartbeat, as important as oxygen, and the ruthless honesty of his need wrung a response from her she hadn’t dreamed existed. She might as well have been the virgin he’d teased about, because now, in this moment, she found herself grappling with symptoms she didn’t understand, and had no idea how to deal with, and she would have offered him anything, opened up to him in any way he demanded, as long as he delivered the relief his touch promised.
I need more of you. All of you, he’d said.
She couldn’t fathom what more she had to offer, given he had her bent over a workstation and filled to the bursting point while she danced on the edge of the most crucial orgasm of her entire life, but she’d take it. All of it.
Long, blunt-tipped fingers glided over her jaw. Then he cupped her chin, traced her lips, and slid two fingers inside. A shockingly intimate and inexplicably controlling move—as if he intended to invade and possess every part of her. Even though the notion disturbed her, she couldn’t help tightening her lips to keep him there.
He groaned his approval, then took a deep breath, opened his eyes and met hers in the mirror. “It’s about to get rough.”
Her inner walls spasmed at the prospect. And then he was moving again. Every powerful thrust rocked her forward, forcing the breath out of her lungs, shoving her swollen, aching parts into his waiting palm down below, pushing the fingers of his other hand deeper into her mouth. Every withdrawal pulled her back, gave her a fleeting moment to inhale and try to rub against his hand in her own personal rhythm before he slammed into her again and bounced her around like a small aircraft caught in turbulence.
He surrounded her, filled her so he was all she could taste, all she could breathe. She sweated him out her pores. The ache inside tightened, and twisted, and turned so sharp she couldn’t focus on anything else. Her muscles quivered against the ferocity of what was coming. She heard him grunt, and in some remote part of her mind she knew she was biting his fingers and ought to relax her jaw, but then he thrust again and relaxing any part of her body became impossible. She whimpered and trembled as the world started to crumble and fall away.
Another thrust. A low, groaning curse, and then a shudder shook his rugged frame. She clung to the workstation and raised her head to watch him. Their eyes met just before his went dark and glazed. He whispered, “Come for me, sweet Virginia.”
She did, with a soul-crushing force, and his name on her lips.
…
“Something is definitely wrong when I’m the pace-setter.” Melody’s teasing jibe didn’t hide the hint of concern in her voice. Ginny inwardly grimaced and picked up her speed as they jogged along the magnolia-flanked perimeter of the freshly mowed town square.
“Maybe I’m going easy on you because of your…ahem…condition?”
“Oh, please. A thirty-minute, three-mile jog at lunchtime is perfectly fine for a healthy woman in her first trimester. Besides,” Melody wiped the glow from her forehead and Ginny caught the glint of her frie
nd’s brand new engagement ring. “Ellie cleared it.”
“Good to know.”
“Right, but you’re still going slower than normal.” Mel’s long, blonde ponytail swished as she turned and looked at Ginny. “Are you second-guessing my boss?”
“Who, me? Hell no. I’m just a hairdresser. I’m not going to second-guess Dr. Ellie Swann.”
“Okay then, since we’ve established there’s no need to go slow for me, it must be for you. Why so pokey today?”
Ginny glanced around to see if anyone stood within earshot, but the coast was clear. “Um, because I got poked last night. Repeatedly.”
Melody skidded to a stop. “What?”
Ginny kept running, but slowed to give her friend a chance to catch up. “Now who’s the pokey one?”