One Night (Superstars in Love 2)

She ran her fingers down his hard abs, marveling at how defined they were. Hot damn, the man was perfect. Every single muscle was formed as if he was carved by an artist’s meticulous touch. When her fingers swept over the skin above his pants, he hissed and tensed.

Emboldened by his reaction, she lowered her fingers and cupped his erection. He rocked his hips into her then vacated the bed faster than she could blink. He looked down at her, his eyes blazing. His hands fell to his buckle, and he slowly unclasped his belt—his eyes on hers the whole time.

She swallowed hard, her fingers itching to touch him again. As he lowered his pants, she lifted onto her elbows and pressed her thighs together. She ached for him in a way she couldn’t remember ever feeling before. When he stood in front of her without a stitch of clothing on, she couldn’t look away.

She stood up, devouring the sight of him. Reaching down, she yanked her shirt over her head. She would like to do something slow and seductive to make him want her as much as she wanted him, but it would take too long. His hands clenched at his hips, and she realized she didn’t need to be seductive or coy.

He already wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

Slowly, she ran her hands down her stomach, smiling at his sharp intake of breath, and lowered her still slightly damp skirt. It fell to her ankles, leaving her clothed only in her underwear.

He walked toward her with determination and spun her around. He yanked her closer until his chest was against her back. Desire quivered in her belly, and he closed his arms around her. Biting down on her shoulder gently, he slid his hands down her stomach, over the waistline of her underwear, and closed his hand over her core.

When his fingers pressed over her clit, she practically came right then and there. She whimpered and leaned back against him, needing more. More of everything. He massaged her with practiced strokes, his other hand cupping her breast and twisting her nipple in a way that made her knees tremble. Her legs gave out on her, and he caught her, easily tossing her onto the bed. Instead of lowering his body over hers, he dropped to his knees beside the bed and kissed her lower thigh.

Resting on her elbows, she dropped her head back and closed her eyes. He kissed her again, this time an inch or so higher. Then higher still, until he reached her inner thigh. Her breath caught in her throat, and she bit down on her lower lip to stifle the moan trying to escape. If he wanted to, he could bring her to pieces with a single touch.

And she had a feeling he wanted to.

He tugged her panties off, and then he was on her. He nibbled at her inner thigh

then closed his mouth on her. When his tongue swept over her clit, she cried out in surprise. Her thighs clenched around his head, and she dug her hands into his hair. Holding him closer. Pushing him away.

The pleasure was so intense and so overpowering; she wasn’t sure which urge was stronger. Every sense and nerve inside of her seemed to be focused on him—and what he was doing to her. She curled her hands into his hair, arching her hips higher.

She tossed her head back and forth on his mattress, fighting for something to grasp on to. She’d never felt so out of control before—so free and loose. And it felt so damn good. When he thrust a finger inside of her, she exploded. Time froze all around her, and her body gave way to pleasure. By the time she resurfaced back to Earth, he had a condom on and was climbing on top of her.

Poised at her entrance, he cupped her cheeks and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Tears filled her eyes at the tender gesture, and she curled her legs around his waist and urged him closer. He groaned, and then seemed to just … snap. He thrust inside of her with one smooth motion, filling her completely. She had thought she was all spent—unable to feel any more pleasure without collapsing.

But she was wrong.

As soon as he began moving inside of her, she came to life. She demanded more. She dug her nails into his back, moving against him restlessly. He growled and deepened the kiss, his mouth devouring hers as if he needed her kisses to survive. With one swift roll, he was on his back and she straddled him.

He arched up into her, going even deeper inside. She curled her fingers into his pecs and rode him. Letting her head drop back, she folded her legs behind her and fell into a fast and hard rhythm. His breaths quickened, matching hers. Reaching between them, he flicked his fingers against her core—and she lost all sense of time or rhythm.

Their tempo increased, perfectly matched, and she miraculously found her pleasure again. This time, though, he was there with her. He stiffened and gripped her hips tight, holding her in place as he lost himself inside of her. When they both came down from the clouds, she collapsed against his chest. His arms wrapped around her tight, holding her as if he didn’t want to let her go.

His breath fluttered out over her head, tickling her ear. She closed her eyes, not wanting reality to intrude on them. She had gotten what she wanted. Justin and distraction from the world—wrapped up in one neat package. But … now what? She wasn’t exactly versed in the moments after a one-night stand. What was she supposed to do? Thank him and get dressed? Stay and spoon?

She was freaking clueless.

He gave a light laugh. “If I can guess correctly from your increasingly tense body … you’re now panicking.”

She lifted up on her elbows, looking down into his gorgeous blue eyes. “Panicking? No. Questioning my sanity? Maybe a little bit.”

He cupped her cheeks, tugging her down for a gentle kiss. It melted her heart, and made her wonder if she was worrying herself over nothing. “No questioning needed. Don’t over think it. People do this kind of thing all the time.”

“Not me.”

A loud boom sounded off in the distance, and they both turned toward the window. The fireworks had started. He was right. It hadn’t just been a line to get her back to his apartment. He had an excellent view of the sky.

His arms flexed around her. “Looks like it’s time for the show.”

“Funny. I thought we just had one ourselves.”

He chuckled and hugged her close. She watched the burst of colors in silence, not moving. He seemed oddly still, too. It should have felt awkward being wrapped in his arms, naked and sweaty, watching the fireworks. She barely knew him, and yet she’d just had the best sex of her life in this very bed. She should be ashamed or feel something other than … content.

Yep. She was perfectly content to stay here, in his arms, all night long.