Bargain in Bronze

He moved to the bed, wrapping his hand around her ankle and tugging so she slid down the bed toward him. Then there were no words. Only action—hot kisses, hands swiping, teasing, turning every inch of her on. Fast. Passion had been unleashed and there was no controlling it. No going slow. No stopping.

Fast was good. Fast was so very good.

She had a wild hunger inside, an ache. She wanted him right in there, she wanted him to have her so hard. His erection was massive and clearly causing some discomfort. She called to him—urgently.

“Luke.” It was a beg, a demand. She no longer gave a damn about being another one of his women. He’d be one of her men—her best. And Real Luke was so much better than any damn fantasy. He was hot and hard and sweaty. He tasted of salt and smelled of soap and she couldn’t get enough. She wanted more—she wanted it all.

He reached across her, pulling open a drawer and rummaging for condoms, frowning as he hurried to get one on. And finally then he positioned himself over her, gazing into her eyes. His chest rose and fell faster and faster as if he were running a sprint—only he was immobile. Now, despite the mad rush and heat, he paused. “Are you sure?”

“Just hurry up. Please. Please, please, please.” She offered it all to him.

His jaw clamped, reflecting the sudden snap of tension in his whole body. A split-second later he thrust into her.

Oh. Oh yes.

She trembled, her body shaking as she adjusted to the unutterable pleasure of him.

“This part was always going to be the problem,” he choked. “My coming too soon after entering you. You feel so amazing.” His breathing labored. Between his gritted teeth a pained, angry groan emerged.

Lexie sucked in some air and laughed.

It was the wrong thing to do. He grabbed her by the hair and tugged. She let her head fall back, arching her neck, inviting him to kiss her throat. He didn’t just kiss it—he sucked and nipped, fiercely branding her—and all the while his hips pistoned, thrusting in and out of her, causing the most incredible friction.

There was no chance of a sweet, slow, sensual discovery. It was fierce and hot. Hard. And so fast again. Gorgeously, deliciously fast. She gasped as he pounded into her. Oh yeah, this was exactly what she’d wanted. They battled, both fighting to hold back, yet desperate for that ultimate destination. He slid a hand beneath her, his palm wide, pushing her butt upward so he was grinding against her as close as possible. It was heavenly torment against her most sensitive nub. She convulsed, scraped her nails down his back, not wanting it to be over this soon—but there was no fighting it.

She cried out as she tensed. But there was no room for her to arch, his body was pressed so closely to hers. There was nothing between them, not even a sliver of air, so tightly sealed nothing could come between them. That realization sent her right over the edge. Trembling delight—her palms tingled, ecstasy pulsed in her insteps and in every inch in between—sheer joy coursed along her veins faster than her hot, swift blood. And with it came Luke’s cry, his sound of satisfaction roaring in her ears, mingling with her own.

That ecstasy drummed in her ears for long, sweet moments. She kept her eyes firmly closed, still processing the sensual overload. But he lifted her chin and she had to open them—had to show she was okay with this. Because she sensed his concern—the flash of second thoughts, of doubt now. But she wasn’t going to regret this and wasn’t going to let him regret it either. And she wasn’t only having him the once—he’d just given her the most incredible experience ever. She planned to do the same to him.

“How’s your knee?” she asked, putting her palm on the side of his face.

“It’s there.” He laughed but it ended on a groan.

“Seeing you’re too sore to stand, maybe you should just lie back and let me take care of you.” She firmly stated her intentions, and pushed him to his back to emphasize it.

He rolled easily, letting her. Good.

“I used to get sick of everyone thinking they have to take care of me,” she murmured. “I’m going to take care of you now, Luke.”

“Okay,” he groaned through gritted teeth as she fluttered light fingers over his abs, stroking along the lines angling toward his pelvis.

He was hard again—already? Fantastic. “Okay.” She kept up her light strokes, as he swiftly slipped off the spent condom.

“You’re fit,” she commented lightly, slowly kissing her way across his chest when he was done.

“I’ve been training for a marathon.”

“Thank goodness.”

“It’s all about endurance.”

“The mental game, right? Mental strength.”

“I guess.” His breath whooshed out as she pressed openmouthed kisses down in a straight line beneath his belly button.

She smiled. “How’s your mental strength, Luke? Can you resist this?”

She took him in as far as she could, until she felt his thick blunt head hitting the back of her throat.

He swore, his fingers pulling in her hair. “Oh no, Lexie. I’m going to—”

She sucked hard, sliding him back and forth in her mouth, stroking his balls with her hand to tease him more. She loved it—having him beneath her like this—so intimate. Finally hers to play with.

“I don’t want to come like this,” he begged. “I want to come inside you again.”

“Endurance, Luke,” she teased, kissing the tip of him with soft lips before sucking him in again.

“Please!” He shook his head.

She felt him then—taut as a steel wire lifting a ten-ton load. He’d let go of her hair to scrunch the sheet in his fists. He threw his head back as he arched up toward her, his muscles so tense his veins popped in his neck. But he fought it. Fiercely male, fiercely proud, fiercely determined.

She released him. He released a harsh breath. Wild eyes locked on her.

“Get on me.” He ordered. “Now.”

Deliberately, slowly, she picked up a condom from the table. Neatly ripping it open with her teeth and taking her sweet time to roll it down his hot, hard length.

Breath hissed between his teeth—so did a swear word or two.

“Lexie.” His voice grated, his expression one of furious desire.

Giving him an equally wild look back, she spread her legs and straddled his hips. But he suddenly slid down the bed—so it was his face beneath her, not his sheathed erection. “Oh no, Luke,” she gasped, horrified. “I’m too wet.”

He laughed, all lust. “I’m a thirsty man.”

He licked her and in that instant she no longer had any thought of denying him—or herself. Anyway, he wrapped his arms around the outside of her thighs, locking her legs into position on either side of his head. Blind, his face buried in her heat, he relentlessly stroked her. She leaned forward just enough to brace her hands on the headboard, struggling to stay sane through the incredible sensations as he licked and sucked and flicked his tongue and kissed her deeply, until she was rotating her hips and begging him to just finish her off. She was so hungry—she’d never been so hungry, so desperate to be impaled. She wanted him inside her. She wanted him hard and fierce and now and she yelled that fact—again and again.

“I hear you.” He grasped her hips, not gently, and lifted her. He slid back up the bed, keeping her in place until he was in position to enter her.

With a growl he thrust up, deeper, then again, deeper still. Her head snapped back at the impact, her breathing drastic as she fought to cope.

“You can do it.” His fingers curled tighter into her butt. “You can take me.”

“Yes.” She jerked a nod. She’d never been so hot in her life—so bold, so ready, so his. She’d never imagined it would be like this—so intimate, so raw, so fulfilling.

Despite being on top, she didn’t lead their dance. She simply couldn’t—too insane to do anything but go with it. She put her hands on his shoulders, feeling the indentations of his deltoids, seeing their sharp definition flexing over a

nd over as he worked into her.

He caressed her with his hand, stroking upward from her stomach. Gentle, soft strokes totally at odds with the powerful thrusts of his hips as he drove into her. The conflicting sensations were killer. With each stroke, his fingers trailed an inch higher, slowly working up to her breast. She wanted him to touch her there. She wanted him to touch her every-damn-where. Finally he did—his hand cupped her, his thumb swishing across her nipple. She groaned, broke down, bending forward to kiss him. Passionately she thrust her tongue inside his mouth, wanting to own him as much as he owned her this second. Without breaking the fierce seal of their mouths, he forced his fingers between their bodies so he could stroke her clit.