Melody's Six

He turned his face, kissing one palm, then the other. Her knees buckled, and he swept her up into his arms. “My hero,” she whispered against his neck, breathing in his enticing scent.

He set her on the edge of the bed as if she was made of porcelain. As fragile as she’d felt a few minutes ago, when his mouth met hers, she was all strength. Dean gave her that, not just here in this moment, but always. He empowered her. He had from day one. It added to the thrill, the significance, of taking this step with him, that the same held true now.

“You make me feel more like me,” she murmured as he bent to remove her boots.

“I could say the same thing,” stripping away the rest of her clothing with deliberately tantalizing touches. He explored every inch of her skin as he found it, until she was writhing with anticipation.

His fingers lightly traced the edge of her bra and she arched into his touch, seeking more. “You’re beautiful, Melody.”

She pushed his shirt up and out of the way and finally, finally learned the taste of his supple, golden skin over those sculpted muscles. He flinched and, realizing he was ticklish, she used it to her advantage.

Pressing him back on the bed, she lavished his torso with lips and tongue, all the way to the button of his fly. “We need to catch you up.” She watched his gaze lock on her breasts as she crawled backward over his long legs. The lust, the pure heat in his eyes emboldened her.

She dispensed with his boots and socks, then crawled back up to sit on his thighs. His hands cruised up and down her legs. Dipping her fingers under his waistband, his abs flexed and his erection pulsed. Though she wanted to drag it out and make this last, she was already wet and on the edge of an orgasm.

Carefully, she undid the button on his fly, but as she started to lower the zipper, he shook his head, surging up and gathering her close. The thin fabric of her panties was no barrier to the denim or his arousal. She rocked her hips against the hard length of him, reaching back to unhook her bra.

Sensation rolled through her, nearly too much to bear. She cried out when his mouth closed over her nipple, his tongue teasing. He rolled her to her back, dragged her panties down her legs and then did away with his jeans and boxers and then prowled over her in a stunning display of masculine perfection.

Skin to skin, she was utterly steeped in him. There was no such thing as close enough as she discovered what made him rumble with pleasure. His mouth moved over hers, down her throat, over her heart, lingering on her breasts as his hand trailed lower still, stroking her slick folds.

The rest of the world fell away. What brought them here didn’t matter. This room, this glorious connection and discovery became her sole focus. She rose and fell with every glide of his tongue, every touch of his hand.

He nuzzled her inner thighs, his short beard rasping her sensitive skin as he kissed his way to her core. She was so close already that she came apart at the first touch of his tongue. He stroked and teased, gradually demanding more with his mouth and fingers until she was cresting again, calling his name as stars exploded behind her closed eyelids.

“Mel. Look at me.”

With an effort, she opened her eyes, met his gaze. This man had become her everything. She bit her lips, afraid of blurting out something that would ruin this for him.

She watched, her body and heart aching with desire, as he ripped open a condom and rolled it over his erection. His eyes were dark with passion and need as he drove deep. He stretched her, filled her, and she only wanted more. Bringing his mouth to hers, she wrapped her legs around his hips and took him deeper still.

His groan was a sweet reward as he set a delicious pace, bringing her ever-closer to another orgasm with every roll of his hips. Her fingers dug into his wonderful shoulders as she tried to hold back as long as possible.

“I’ve got you,” he said, reaching between them to stroke her with his thumb.

Another orgasm shot through her. She bowed up, her body clinging to his and milking the release as his hips pumped until, at last, he joined her in that incomparable sensual freefall.

“I’ve got you,” she murmured against his skin. Her heart pounded, filled with so much more than simple pleasure.

She recognized the signs of trouble around her heart as her pulse settled and her body, loose and perfectly satisfied, cooled. It would be so easy to fall in love with him. She was more than halfway there already. But it wasn’t just a question of how to reframe their working partnership with newfound intimacy or a lasting romance.

Dean had zero interest in a personal relationship that might threaten the walls he’d built to protect himself from another painful disaster. And despite her jokes about non-traditional wedding venues, down deep, she was a woman who—eventually—wanted to settle down with a happy-ever-after kind of man.

Would that ever be Dean?