Hot to the Touch

She laughed, pushing suddenly, her strong arms catching him off balance, tumbling him to the mattress. She followed, took over, exploring him with her mouth, soft hair dragging across his chest, adding to the sensation. Her hands followed, raking his skin lightly. Her tongue found his nipple, swirled around, it teeth gently biting. He moaned as she moved downward; his penis stiffened in anticipation.

Her mouth closed over him, took him in deep, making air rush from his lungs. “Darcy.”

“Mmm?”

“That is…oh, man.”

She backed off to slide her lips firmly up and down the sensitive underside of his cock, fisting him sometimes, using her fingers to manipulate his balls. He was overwhelmed with the sensations, yes, turned on out of his mind, but also with a piercing tenderness, a humbling opening to her that she’d no doubt scorn if she knew he was feeling it so deeply and so soon.

What was he going to do with his passion for this woman?

He took her shoulders, lifted her up, intending to turn her onto her back. But she resisted, positioned herself on top, straddling him, her hips moving forward and back, up and down the length of his erection so the soft lips of her sex stroked him, clung and rubbed, leaving their moisture behind. Her hair hung in a curtain over her face; her breasts swung heavy and free. She was aroused, too, her lips parted, eyes half-closed, face tense with concentration.

He nearly shamed himself by coming onto his belly.

“Condom?”

Troy pointed to the drawer of his nightstand, unable to speak. She reached, found one, ripped the package and rolled it over him, using lingering movements of her hand to make even that a sensual experience.

Darcy Clark was a miracle. One he wanted to experience over and over.

She leaned forward, lifted, took his straining cock in her hand and moved it back and forth again over her sex, this time catching her clitoris on the upslide, pulling it on the down, circling the bud with the tip of his penis, then stroking again. She gave a soft cry, breath coming faster; her movements lost their easy rhythm.

He wanted to be inside her more than he wanted to go on living. Every time his cock dipped toward her entrance, a surge of desire made him want to grab her and push in. But he wanted this to be good for her, more than for him.

So he watched, waited, clenching his teeth, fighting the lust. Once more she arched, pulled his penis to her clitoris, circled her hips, eyes closed, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Down again, then suddenly with a quick glide she settled and he disappeared up inside her.

Her walls clutched him tightly; he nearly yelled with his impatience, took hold of her hips and pushed her up, down, forcing himself up hard inside her, over and over, selfish now, past all reason.

She let out a taut breath, then took up his rhythm, rode him sitting astride, her pleasure reflected in her face. He watched her, trying desperately to hold back from coming. His thumb found her clitoris, he rubbed her, crazy emotion washing over him as he saw her starting to come apart, her poise and concentration broken, desperation tinging her movements.

A light sweat broke out on her body. Her breathing became erratic. She was close. He let himself build toward his own climax, controlling it with every ounce of willpower left to him so he could get there with her.

She said his name in a low, urgent voice, said it again. He reacted with tenderness so fierce it made him grit his teeth in pain. Too soon to turn what was inside him into speech. He’d have to tell her with his body.

Maybe Darcy heard him, because she arched into bliss, gasping again and again, as her walls contracted around him, and Troy finally let go, thrusting up once, twice, three times and his own orgasm tore through him while the words played in his head. Darcy. I love you.

He’d never been so sure of anything and never been filled with more fear or dread over an emotion so often celebrated with joy. He loved her. Help.

“Mmm.” Darcy collapsed onto his chest and lay there, her body heavy and sweet with satiation. “Wow.”

He wrapped his arms around her, stroked her hair, wanting to protect her, love her and imprison her all at the same time, still unable to speak. Yes. Wow.

She lifted her head, rained tiny kisses over his chest and slowly pulled off him. He winced at the loss of connection, accepted the very practical tissues she handed him, and got rid of the latex in a three-point toss across the room.