Completely (New York 3)

Kal licked between her fingers and sucked one into his mouth. She lifted one knee over his hip, and he dropped his hand between her legs, found her slick and wet, spread two fingers and worked her up and down until he figured out how much pressure she wanted and where. Their mouths met, hungry and messy and hot, breathing into each other as much as they were kissing, Kal distracted by the feel of her wet heat against his fingers and the sliding pressure of her hip grinding back and forth over his cock.

She made a noise. Closed her eyes. Arched her back, gasping.

“You like that, princess?”

Rosemary rolled onto her back and pulled him on top of her. She moved beneath him, spread her legs, found him with her fist and positioned him right where she wanted him. “I thought I told you to be quiet.”

He was smiling when he moved inside her. She was so perfectly Rosemary, the smug tilt of her smile in place until he was all the way inside, and when she lifted her hips and found an angle to take him deeper still, he had to squeeze his eyes closed and grab a fistful of pillow and count backward from ten.

She put her arms around him and stroked his back, up and down. She ran her fingers along the ridge of his spine. When he opened his eyes, there she was. Hiding nothing.

“Are we going to do this or what?” she asked.

“Jesus.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked a little. “Yes. That’s very nice.”

“You’re really something.”

“Thank you.”

Just like the first time she thanked him when he handed her a cup of tea at Base Camp, Rosemary looked right into his eyes, gave him all of her attention, gracious as a princess.

She rocked again, this time more determined, with a bump and grind when she had him in to the hilt that made her mouth go slack. “Mmm.”

“Do that again.”

“It’s your turn.”

“Lazy.”

“I put the condom on.”

“I carried you into the bedroom. I rubbed your feet, too.”

Rosemary sighed. “It’s impossible to get serviced properly these days.”

“You should try Craigslist.”

“I should try a riding crop, is what I should try.” She smacked him hard on the ass. “Go.”

“Are you pretending I’m a horse?”

“Your proportions are generous, but they’re not that generous.” She smacked him again. “Yah!”

Kal let out a yelp, and then he was laughing and it was all over—Rosemary brought a hand up to her mouth, giggling, her legs gripping him even tighter, and he started to move inside her, steady and slow, that same rush he’d felt in the cab there when he looked into her eyes, like they’d been doing this forever, and he never wanted it to end.

He straightened his arms so he could look at her and watch their bodies come together, focusing in on the sounds she made and the color in her cheeks. He knew when he found the right angle, the right speed, and he dropped back to his elbow so he could put his hand on her and rub beside her clit, tight circles in the spot he’d found earlier.

She made a sound that didn’t have a name. A highly satisfying sound. Her cheeks had gone crimson. Kal put his lips on her hot skin, kissed beside her ear, pressed relentlessly into the spot she liked, and she tightened mercilessly on his dick. “Kal.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh my God. Don’t—”

He did, though. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she clutched at him hard, pulling his head down to her chest, digging her fingers into his hair, moaning his name in a voice so raw and needy that it sliced right through what remained of his self-control and he went over with her, fast and hard, his hands finding the middle of her back and holding on tight.

They collapsed in a damp, sticky heap. She disentangled her hands from his hair and patted the top of his head.