Sunset In Central Park (From Manhattan with Love 2)

He tightened his fingers on the rock, the sharp edges digging into his palm. Sensation rushed toward him like a wave and he swore under his breath and eased away from her.

“What’s wrong?” She sounded breathless and he had to force the words from his mouth.

“Nothing’s wrong.” It was a struggle to speak. “Just give me a minute.”

She rose to her feet and he wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her close, burying his other hand in her hair. He’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted her.

Sealing his mouth over hers, he dragged her jeans down over her legs and helped her wriggle out of them. Then he closed his hands over her bottom, feeling warm bare skin under his palms. All that was left between him and her was skimpy, silky underwear that proved no barrier at all.

She gasped against his lips. “Eva bought me that underwear you just ripped.”

“Great choice. I approve.”

She laughed, breathless. “You didn’t even see it.”

“No, but it came off easily and that’s the main thing.”

Her laugh turned to a whimper as he slid his hand between her legs.

“Matt—”

He trailed the tips of his fingers over the silken seam of her flesh and then slid deep. Her fingers dug hard into his hair and her breathing fractured.

“Oh, God—now—please—I don’t want to wait—”

Still kissing her, he fumbled in his pocket for his wallet and she gave a murmur of protest that he smothered with his mouth.

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“Oh—”

He could tell from her tone that she’d forgotten about that. He could easily have forgotten, too, if it hadn’t been for the fact that protecting Frankie was big on his agenda. He never, ever wanted to hurt her.

He paused long enough to deal with the condom and then lifted her so that she straddled him.

She licked at his lips and trailed her tongue over his jaw. “If you drop me, I’ll kill you.”

“I lift concrete slabs on a daily basis. I think I can manage to hold one fragile female without having an accident.”

“Fragile? You think I’m fragile?”

“I think parts of you are fragile.” He smothered her words with his mouth, shifted the angle of her body and entered her in a long, smooth thrust. Engulfed by the silky smooth heat of her, he closed his eyes. “Am I hurting you?”

“No! God, no—” She tried to move but he was the one in control, and he kept his mouth on hers and his hands locked on her hips as he drove into her.

This time there was no slow, drawn-out seduction, just a fast, frantic slaking of need.

He felt the first ripples of her orgasm tighten on his shaft and thrust deeper, hearing her cry out as they both reached that peak at the same time.

Slightly dazed, he lowered her carefully to the sand.

She rested her head against her chest. “We just had cave sex.”

“I know.”

“Standing up.”

“I know.” He stroked his hand through her hair. “And if you don’t stop talking about it, it’s going to happen again.”