He lifted his head and looked at her, eyes fogged with passion. Something clouded his gaze, as if he was becoming aware of how fast they’d arrived at this point.
She didn’t care about that. It was supposed to be like this. Animalistic, but with both of them caught up in overwhelming desire. She licked her lips.
His gaze followed the signal and his head bent.
They were lost again. Kissing deeply. Her body eased its tight grasp on his, inviting him to move. He did, muscles trembling, and his excitement fueled hers. She stroked his back and rubbed her thighs against his sides and lifted her hips to accept the return of his, seeking pressure where she ached for it most.
He made a feral noise and moved with more deliberation, making her gasp at the sensation of friction and something that strummed the very heart of her. It was the most instantly addictive feeling she’d ever encountered. She made a noise of female ardor and encouraged him with primal arches and a grind of her hips. The more he moved, the more reality fell away. All she cared about was the next thrust and the next.
More. Now. Please. Please.
They writhed in ecstatic struggle, fighting to hold on to the moment, lascivious sounds filling the air as the intensity grew, as he moved faster, as climax approached with merciless demand.
The paroxysm struck her suddenly, holding her in a hard grip, mouth open in a silent scream. Sensations detonated then reverberated through her, rocking her to her core.
Roman’s arms locked straight, a ragged cry of triumph tearing through the air as his hips sealed to hers and pulses of heat met her clasping orgasm, strengthening and prolonging her pleasure.
They were wholly attuned, joined in body and involvement. It wasn’t happening to him or her. They were the experience.
With broken cries, they collapsed into weakness, sweaty and wrung out, panting and shaking. Tears of deep emotion leaked to dampen Melodie’s lashes as she kept her eyes clenched shut, so shaken by the wildness of her actions she could barely face what they’d just done.
That had been...
She didn’t have words.
* * *
That was—
Roman lifted off Melodie and pushed clumsily to his feet, arms weak, knees shaking. The friction of leaving her was a pleasurable stroke that turned to the chill of loss. He had to turn away to keep from falling under her spell all over again.
No condom. He turned away, aghast at his carelessness. He never forgot, never lost his head. He liked sex, but he was always, always aware of protection.
He’d started to pull away as he felt her naked flesh against his pulsing erection. She was the one who’d yanked him back into the act, begging. Offering herself with such abandon he’d discarded all cares but getting inside her.
He shot a wary look her way, genuinely shaken by the way she’d slithered past his shields.
She’d rolled onto her side, but was still diagonal on the bed, knees together now, shirt pulled low to hide her nudity, head pillowed on her curled arm. Her big eyes blinked in sensual shock as she offered him a tentative smile.
“I’ve always wanted to be swept away by passion.” Her languid tone was a caress and an invitation, as alluring as a drug to an addict. She made him want to join her, to lock out the world and let her become everything he needed.
Which was probably what she had planned. First, dull his senses with the kind of sex that reset the bar. Then lower his guard so he’d let her wander his home so she could, what? Dig through his files while he slept?
He had not meant to touch her. He hated himself for being weak enough to do so. He’d been on the verge of coming downstairs to spell out exactly how he was taking his revenge, but she’d come to him and coldcocked him with seduction.
A mix of emotions rose in him: contempt for both of them, fury, disappointment, a kind of defeat that took him back to a time when he’d been completely powerless... He hated feeling these things, especially all at once. With ruthless discipline, he shut himself down, refusing to be drawn by her sultry afterglow. Women were as vulnerable after sex as they were during, but he closed himself off to that, too.
Melodie must have read something in his look. Her lashes quivered and one hand tugged her shirttail down a little more. “Maybe it’s always like that for you,” she murmured self-consciously.
“It is,” he lied flatly, unable to stomach how he’d let lust, for her, sweep him completely beyond himself. “I know who you are,” he continued, before her flinch of defenselessness could have an impact on him. He strode across to gather his pants and stamped his feet into them, straightening to tie them into place with jerky movements. “You’re wasting your time.”
“What...? What do you mean?” She tucked her legs to the side as she sat up, brow furrowing.